Though My Heart Is From Hell
by sky is blue
Summary: “You were a good little girl, and look what they repay you with! Accusations. Join us, and we will treat you with the respect that you desire. “I had known it would come to this if I came back to him.The thought still intimidated me. So I kissed him
1. Introduction: chapter 1

A/N: Yet another one. *grin * Expect this one to be only a few chapters long. 

Summary: 16 years old, and no longer a child. She never was, come to think of it. 

The world she lives in is on the brink of war, and she's about to fall. Fear over takes her, because her life is so _wrong._ Falling in love with Draco Malfoy. Because he sees her; he notices through his ever-changing eyes. 

Posing a threat to her—and more importantly, the whole world. And he has power greater than her imagination. What does this have anything to do with her? Every day the tears fall, because her mind, heart and soul are corrupted—confused, constantly falling. His spirit still lingers deep in her years after, a constant reminder of who she is. 

_'I don't want the world to die.'_

She must stop him, though he makes her weak. Though she loves him dangerously. Stop him from becoming what he was destined to. But how can she even begin to, when she must first win the battle within herself? A battle she is losing?

-Though My Heart Is From Hell- 

Introduction

He was perfect in every single way. In ways that I knew I would never be. And some may choose to call me crazy, thinking so about such an antagonistic man—but what do you think of it? Do you, as well, think me a freak? You soon will.

And now you wonder how I ever came to admire him. Notice the word I choose to use: admire. I do not think I love him—not yet, anyway. And that's why I must stay away from him, for I fear his charm will take my senses over. I'm afraid, to tell you the truth. Because I fell in love with him one fateful day; the world was still spinning round, and the sun was still shining. And everything was wrong.

Did I just wake up one morning with the notion that he weren't such an arse after all? 

Or was it something gradual. It does not make sense. And this creepy, shivery, chilling feeling that I get whenever I think of him, or whenever I'm near him—it's the same feeling I experienced in my first year in my horrible state of trance. Sometimes I would break free of it, and I would get the most horrible shivers. 

And now, when I look at him, he shines in my eyes. 

You think me crazy, don't you? 

I think I am.

He was perfect because he did not see me as everyone else did. Look at yourself, now, and you'll realize you see me as a shy, boring girl.

You know what the difference is between you and I? You, you might be one of them_. The loved ones. The happy ones, with the smiles; the popular ones._ And I'm not. And do you know what that does to a person? I see things differently than you do. Because I do not have a filter withstanding between dream and fantasy. I see reality, and I hate it—because all the while I watch myself fade away with the hurtful words and actions, I must keep my fake façade. Just because no one cares to look beyond it, doesn't mean I don't want them to. And Draco Malfoy, he did. He very nearly saw me for what I was, who I wanted to be, and he saw the greatest desires within me. 

You think me crazy, don't you?

I think I am. 

~*~

"Ginny!" Her voice rang throughout the empty corridors and of course I turned around. She was beaming at me, waving a piece of parchment in the air. 

" Oh, Ginny, look! I aced that test!" she chirped cheerfully. And though I did not feel any rush of excitement, I was a good actress. So once again I put on my mask that I had so skillfully created, smiling that winning smile. 

" Oh, Amelia, that's wonderful!" And even to my own ears, the honey covered voice that was unfortunately mine—it sounded so sickly, so fake. Yet once again, no one noticed. No one cared to look into my eyes just once—just long enough to see who I really was. They were all too ignorant. My thoughts unwillingly wander toward him. How perfect he is. You surely must have noticed how different his eyes are from the rest. You surely must have observed them once or twice, afterwards pondering under the starlit sky what was so different about him. How they were ever-changing, perhaps due to his mood, or even depending on the weather. But they were a truly the eyes of a fey—a great and powerful wizard with many secrets hidden within his walls. 

Perhaps that's what is so different about me. I don't think the way you do. If your mind were a sunny day, mine is the most dangerous of storms, not because it destroys everything in its path, because it is sneaky, cunning, and strikes when you least expect it…

I cannot think of cheerful things. It's like a shadow, a shadow that was placed after my first year. Trying to remember past my first year; I can't. The incident overtakes my mind and heart and soul. 

His leering face forever remains in the depths of my body, and I can still feel his weak spirit linger inside of me. That spirit is always there, sometimes stronger than normal. It is what causes me to become the dangerous storm, and isn't it ironic? It grows stronger with every naughty deed I do. Every sin, every dark thought. Because then he knows I am slowly falling.

And sometimes the temptation to be a destructive storm is great. And when that spirit is completely rekindled, I will be gone. Ginny Weasley will be lost forever in a sea of confusion. When that spirit grows strong, the world will be in deep turmoil.

_ I have powers greater than any man on Earth—and now they're partly bestowed upon you._

Doesn't it seem almost hopeless? Don't you think that one day, I will indeed be the cause of the end of the world? Already I do deeds that I dare not speak of, deeds that Ginny Weasley would be appalled of.

_ You and I will do great things together, and others will follow, others who have great power._

Should I fall into Draco Malfoy's abyss; I shall be far lost than I already am. To fall in love with a dark and brooding creature is dangerous, is it not? Surely then, I will grow weaker, for love can do that to the strongest of men, and then what? He is already his father's identical man, and surely just as faithful to Him as his father will be. And nothing makes sense. Because though my heart is from hell, I do not want the world to suffer. I want to relieve myself from this burden. 

I want to stop him from becoming what he will soon be, so that I will not become that someone I had always destined to be, so that my heart will no longer be corrupted. And should I try to help him, he will see the desperate tone in my quiet, calm voice. His eyes will shine with concern, and for a moment his cold exterior will be gone. For he does not see things the way others do. Or perhaps this too is a fantasy.

I have great desires; some I dare not mention because I am still in denial. But above all, I want to escape. Escape these dark shadows that call me with such luring voices, escape the corrupted thoughts that haunt me. 

_My greatest fear_

Losing the battle within myself. The temptation of power is far too great. Maybe I'm not strong enough, maybe I'll fall just like so many others have. 

I fear that soon the darkness will be all around me, nothing there to help me out of the dark. 

Love will always help you.

The lonely words of my foolish mother. Love is such a trivial thing in the world I live in. Love is weakness. 

_ I am on the edge of the cliff. Just give me one more push.___

To be continued….

A/N: R/R


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thank you to those who have reviewed. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything. Maybe the plot, but who knows?

Though My Heart Is From Hell

Chapter 2:

It started out as an uneventful day—the sun still shone, though it was rather dim, and the wind still blew outside. The dreadful classes went on, and everything, everywhere reminded me of…whom I was. What a surprise that was. 

I walked slowly out of the great hall—and I walked alone, hiding within the shadows of the corridors. My hands were clenched and my footsteps were light. But then how was it that I could hear them thud heavily on the ground—or perhaps that was my heart? I was melancholy. I was in a good mood—better than usual. But that soon changed. 

" Virginia."

I halted, my thoughts halted, my heart halted. _Virginia._ He called my name so softly—and yet it was as loud as a stampede of elephants. Commanding, luring, forceful. So much charisma withstanding in one simple word. 

I knew he was behind me, I could feel his body there, and I could hear his soft, even breathing. My first mistake was turning around to face his eyes. His gray eyes that made me shake with fear—they held so much animosity. 

Our lips were sealed, yet there was so much said with the one look he gave me. With one look of his changing gray eyes I knew what he was telling me. 

_I know who and what you are._ Thus the odd ringing in my ears began. _Denial. _

My eyes darted frantically around, and I tried to shut him out, tried to run away, but I was frozen—and so was my mind. So much was said—things that could not be said with simple words, and even now I cannot contemplate clearly what he had said. Only then I knew. And only then my fear had increased; making me shudder with each breath I took. The moment that passed was merely a minute or two. But it very well could have been hours, or days, or years. Time had disappeared—slipped through my fingers like sand, and it no longer existed.

"I can give you power you had never dreamed of even in your wildest fantasies, child." His soft, strong, and dangerous voice floated from everywhere around me, surrounding me, and I was getting lost. Lost in the fog. 

_I can give you power you had never dreamed of even in your wildest fantasies_.

Willpower. Using every ounce of willpower I had, I began to see beyond the endless fog that blurred my vision. _No._

It was tantalizing, the way my whole body tingled with his words—and it was so near, so close, almost within my spindly grasp. _No._

If only I said yes, if only I nodded, everything would be fine, and I would be one, I would be renewed. _Yes…_

But what then? Damn the question—but it was what saved me from falling. What happens to the world then? And the feelings disappeared, for reality had kicked in. And somehow, knowing that I could not say yes made me feel even weaker, making my knees buckle with pressure.

"_No…_" I cried, gasping for breath. His face was like stone; cold, hard, with no apparent emotion. 

" No?" he mocked me, his cruel and thin lips curling up. He watched me break down with a spiteful glare, gray eyes boring holes in me as he did.

" And tell me, who are _you_ to turn down such an offer?" he asked. 

" No, I can't, Draco." I kept on, though my voice was softer. 

" Aren't you a little coward?" Silence, and I was grateful. I did not answer because yes, I was a coward. I knew what I was without him telling me. 

His robes swished and for a moment I was enclosed in black. Then, he was gone.

---------------------------------------+

_I'm drowning in pools of sweat and blood and I cannot see anything beyond it. I shake and shudder with a cold that I cannot describe, and though there is fire, I do not feel warmer. Fear is present within me, and I think I am screaming, for the shrill, bloodcurdling sound is sure to be mine…_

Sobs interrupt the night's silence. I knew I was shaking, and I felt hot and cold at the same time. Dreams. Dreams that did not make sense—but that was why they were so terrible, because my heart understood and I did not understand my heart. 

My eyes traveled over to the window and I noted that the stars looked oddly bright tonight. _Oh, _how I wished I were one of them, not one looking for hope, but the one to give hope to those who were lost. I wanted to be free like the wind, to let Ginny Weasley's spirit overtake myself, to become complete. To be the smiling girl I was once upon a time.

_How did he know?_

That had been my first rational thought after my encounter with him. But the question merely bounced back to me.

_How could he not know?_

Of course. He was smart, bright, witty—whatever adjective you choose. He was quick—of course he knew I was different. I smiled half-heartedly, feeling an odd, warm feeling creep up my spine. My Draco had looked past my boring exterior and he had seen me for who I was—he had, for a brief moment, seen my troubles. And it made me love and hate him even more. Because though he was the first to see me without my mask, he was the one who had taken advantage of it, he had been the one to sneer at me so coldly, laughing at my pathetic life. 

Danger. The word echoed through me. Now that he knew—and it would do no good to deny it, for he had seen me at my weakest—everything was in danger.

He would manipulate me, because my secret was out. I would fall hard. My heart would be burnt and tortured and I would become Virginia, a ruthless girl with no heart at all. I did not want it to be so. Ah, but what I gift it was to know what was coming for me—I had thought on the matter many times before, and the knowledge made me even more fearful.

. My life will eventually be gone, and I would be stripped of any sane thoughts. I knew I would be miserable. But furthermore, I knew what danger it brought upon the world. Voldemort was rising to power. His Death Eaters followed. Draco was powerful for I see it every day in his eyes. But above all, I knew what I was capable of. Or what I was capable of with Tom's immeasurable powers. I remembered the look that Draco had flung toward me moments before he had left. He knew I had won this time. 

_But I'll be back, Virginia. And I will win._

Already the world was on the brink of war, and hope was already bleak in this war that had not yet started. The few that were powerful had died many years ago—and so many chose the path of betrayal because of their lack of bravery. Already the light side was out-numbered, and it took merely the slight push of the teeter-tottering balance to change the whole aspect of the world.

And I knew what I had to do. Because though I was destined to evil, that was not what I wanted. I did not want the world to perish on my account—or Voldemort's for that matter. I knew I had to help in any way I could, and it would take a million miracles. But somehow, perhaps I could rekindle the part of Draco Malfoy that I knew was there, hidden deep beneath layers of his scornful thoughts. 

I had seen it once or twice within his eyes, once upon a time—in the moments when he was alone, when he smiled softly, making his whole face glow beautifully-- and perhaps the alliance against Voldemort would strengthen because of it, and perhaps the world would have a chance. And I needed a miracle. More so because I did not know whether or not I had the strength to fight against His lingering spirit—the battle within myself. I wasn't sure of anything, however, and I did not know if any thing would work out the way I planned to. The only comforting thought was the fact that I wanted to help—that I had not yet lost all hope. But who knew where I would be standing tomorrow? 

I looked toward the stars once more, feeling so cold though it was a rather warm night. I sighed. 

I needed a miracle.

---------------------------------------------+

The Great Hall buzzed with noise, just like any other day, and just like any other day, I sat towards the end of the table, right next to Ron. Just like any other day, I picked at my food and listened to their idle talk disinterestedly. But today, their faces were dotted with apprehension as they talked in rather hushed voices. 

' Have you read the Daily Prophet yet?' Hermione held up the black and white newspaper with a flourish, the headline bold and clear. 

**_10 Muggles Killed In Last Nights Attack_**

My eyes flew over to Harry and Ron to see their reaction, and their faces were grim, an odd fear in each pair of eyes. Words that weren't spoken were understood. 

_So close to war…_

It nearly scared me, how little effect the news had on me. Perhaps because the news was so common, as common as the birds chirping on the bright, sunny morning. 

Images flashed through me, images of the death eaters killing the innocent people, images of _Draco_ killing them. The fact was no longer a surprise, not after what he had said to me so enticingly last night. 

My precious Draco having blood stains over his robes…

More than anything at that moment, I wanted to stop him, I wanted to see him back when he was a child, when he was naïve. 

My chair screeched loudly as I pushed it back to stand up. Ron's troubled eyes looked up to mine questioningly. 

' Ginny?' My mouth opened, and I searched for the right words. 

' I-I…have to go…' I stuttered. I looked calm as ever, I knew, and for that I was proud, but as I walked placidly out of the Great Hall full of laughter, my hands shook beside me. The shadow that filled my inside had grown larger. 

For the millionth time my thoughts lingered on the present danger, and they lingered on the single thought that I could not let myself sin, that I could not let Him win. I could not let the dark win. 

A loud whoosh whipped past me, leaving my cheeks stinging, and then followed a clatter. I looked down and saw books before me, books that were not my own. And down on the floor was him, picking up the books with his long, slender fingers, his blonde hair immaculately clean, I noticed.

A million exhilarating thoughts rushed through me.

_Stop everything. Tell him. Stop him. Win._

And things should have changed the moment I opened my mouth to pour my soul out to him. To take the chance to make him see new light. 

But it all stopped with his eyes, the same way it had begun. He looked up at me, face so cruel, eyes even crueler, and they made my heart stop with pain. 

I feared him. 

'_Virginia…'_ His murmur was full of disdain, obviously the memory of last night still present. 

_Who are you to turn down such an offer?_

There were so many questions I wanted to ask him—questions that I had already guessed answers to. The urge was so great, to get somewhere within this whirlwind of hell, to understand better. But I was a coward, and I could not move while staring into those eyes. All the while, I had a feeling he knew what I wished to do. He raised one perfect blonde eyebrow and I knew he was mocking me yet again. Tears came to my eyes as I struggled not to blink, not to let him win. 

In the end it was I who walked away. He looked back down to pick up his last book, and I ran. 

Ran like the coward I was, for I wanted to get away from my life, if only for a moment…

I felt so naïve afterwards, when the tears had shamefully fallen again. Naïve that I had ever believed anything could be achieved so simply. 

I needed a plan—something so inevitable, something so strong—to make even the great Draco Malfoy to go weak in the knees. I needed a plan to unleash the secret to changing destiny—and I very well hoped it was possible. 

_Overcome fear…_

To be continued…

A/N: Review please. 


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Again, thank you to the reviewers. Am I confusing anyone? If so, tell me. * grin *

Disclaimer: I don't own much. In fact, I don't think I own anything. JKR does, and I give her credit for the setting and characters.

-Though My Heart Is From Hell-

Chapter 3

For the second night, I could not sleep. Damn him, I thought over and over again—because he was the one that haunted me day and night. I was not stupid. But to think of such a fantastic plan—this feat seemed nearly impossible. I have already told you that I had watched him from afar for many, many years. How does one change the life of a man who seems to have no feelings? An ice statue; constantly cold and full of hatred. Even the greatest and warmest of fires could not melt that. I laughed at myself, I ridiculed myself, because here I was, laying in my soft bed, fantasizing crazy dreams that were just that—dreams. 

_I can give you power…_

But I had to try. No more sleep for me, I had decided. Not that I had gotten any. 

I got up, pacing holes in the floors, before I sat back down at my desk, working in the dim candlelight. So many thoughts flew in, and I sat there, fingers tapping the wood furiously, my pen waiting patiently to be used. 

_Weakness._

It hissed in my ear so stealthily…I had read in so many fairytales--of happy couples and a jealous bystander—and how he plotted to kill the hero. Weakness. It came to me so quickly, so simply, and I thanked god for it. But just like every story, there were numerous problems with the simply first step. I didn't know what his weakness was. I knew what I had to do perfectly well: Soften him, make him listen, make him understand—get to know him well enough so that he would let _me_ in, to let _me_ taste some of the sorrow he felt. I did not think simple, idle talk would achieve that. 

Picking up my pen, it hovered above the parchment for the briefest of seconds, before it hit the paper, the black ink flowing out clearly and boldly.

**_Find his weakness. Break down his walls—and at the very least, yearn to understand him. _**

I chuckled at what I had written—it sounded so malicious to my ears, like it had come from the Dark Lord himself. But then again, a part of the dark lord was within me. I could feel him constantly, I have told you, and I know he gives me abilities that most are not graced with. My mind is faster, smarter, sharper, and he makes me bolder. Take his forceful character; mix it with the quiet, shy yet empathic Ginny Weasley and you have the perfect weapon. 

Cunning enough to think of marvelous plans—quiet, small, gentle enough to blend in anywhere, to melt anyone's heart. 

Rolling the piece of parchment up, I slipped it into the pocket of my robes and walked over to my bed once more, looking out the window, awaiting for the sun to rise again. All the while I pondered idly of Draco, of when I would triumph and he would see the light, when all would be alright and the Dark Lord would be gone…and Draco—he would kiss me tenderly, and everything would be right. We would be hopelessly in love, and I would have good reason to be in love with him. And no longer will the world scoff at me.

Am I surprising you yet, my friend? Do I surprise you with how my inner thoughts are so different from what you see every day? Do I frighten you? I frighten myself. 

--------------------------------------------------+

The sun crept up so suddenly, and the light filled my dorm. I looked around and saw the others sleeping peacefully, not a worry on their faces. I envied them. I wished to remember the times when I was like that—but I could not.

I felt restless and I wanted to get away. So, I crept out of bed, feeling dry and tired—though not sleepy, and I got dressed quickly. 

Grabbing my bags, I tip toed out of the room, closing the door behind me, nodding in satisfaction as I heard the soft click. 

As I had suspected, no one was up at this early hour, not even Hermione, and I was quite relieved. I did not want to explain…lie to Ron about why I was up. I smiled weakly at the thought of his worried face bombarding me with questions, and Hermione pressing a hand to my forehead, and then Harry with that frown of his, the quiet one. I loved them all to death, and it hurt to think about what everyone was going through…the war…

They knew I loved them, and they loved me back, yet it amazed me. They had still not noticed anything unusual about me. Were they really that ignorant? And oh, what a funny picture it would be if I had gone up to them, telling them that I was a corrupted, sick girl, and that Tom's spirit was still within me, now a part of me forever. No, they would probably laugh. It was a rather bitter thought.

The corridors were, as well, empty, and they felt oddly cold. I looked around just in case Filch was lurking about, then set off towards the library, my footsteps light. My books were clutched to my chest protectively, and as I passed a mirror that hung on the wall, I saw my pale, ghostly face; skin white as death, red hair limp, lips dry and flaking, and my eyes—my books fell to a clatter as I saw my eyes—those haunted, dark, murky brown eyes that I was positive weren't mine. Reality hit me hard. It was consuming me so much faster, now that Draco had added to the pressure. Now that I knew I was in danger. 

I looked away quickly, feeling sick already, and I never wanted to see it again. I bent down and picked up my books very carefully before proceeding down the hall, a worried frown upon my face. 

Finally, to my exhausted relief, the doors came into view, and I felt almost at peace, smelling all those musty old books, becoming surrounded. All I wanted to do now was to get lost in a happy book, cry a few tears, and get away from my life. 

I selected a table at the edge of the library and sat down, a very small smile forming. Rubbing my hands together, I walked over to the Muggle literature section and browsed, my eyes shining with awe. 

Fairytales. I picked a thick book out and clutched it tightly, feeling content.. 

_Fairytales are for dreamers who can't face reality._

My expression sobered at the memory and I felt a shiver go through me, my hands running over the smooth cover of the book. 

I sat back down, shaking the unruly thoughts out of my head, flipping the book to the first page, my nose crinkling as the smell hit my nose. _Wonderful_, I thought. My eyes fell to the title, _Briar Rose_, and I smiled, tingling with excitement. 

_A long time ago there lived a king and a queen, who said every day, ' If only we had a child!' But for a long time they had none. _

_ It happened once as the Queen was bathing that a frog crept out of the water onto the land and said to her, ' Your wish shall be fulfilled. Before a year has passed you shall bring a daughter into the world.' _

_ The frog's words came true. The Queen had a little girl who was so beautiful that the King could not contain himself for joy, and he prepared a great feast. He invited his relatives, friends and acquaintances, and also the fairies, in order that they might be favorably and kindly disposed towards the child. There were thirteen of them in the kingdom, but as the king had only twelve golden plates for them to eat from, one of the fairies had to stay at home._

_ The feast was held with all splendor, and when it came to and end the fairies all presented the child with a magic gift. One gave her virtue, another beauty, a third riches, and so on, with everything in the world that she could wish for._

_ When the eleven of the fairies had said their say, the thirteenth suddenly appeared. She wanted revenge herself for not having been invited._

_ Without greeting anyone or even glancing at the company, she called out in a loud voice, ' The princess shall prick herself with a distaff in her fifteenth year and shall fall down dead.'_

_And without another word she turned and left the hall._

_ Everyone was terror-stricken,, but the twelfth fairy, whose wish was still unspoken, stepped forward. She could not cancel the curse but could only soften it, so she said, ' It shall not be death, but a deep sleep lasting a hundred years, into which your daughter shall fall.' *_

"Entranced, aren't we?" A voice as sharp as a knife. I gasped and turned around to meet his gray eyes –the source of the voice that had cut through my peace--and my heart lurched. He looked down at me somewhat amusedly, malice deep within his eyes. 

" Y-yes." I stuttered lamely, shutting the book close. 

" Fairytales are for dreamers who can't face reality." He recited smoothly, taking me by surprise yet again. My mouth formed an 'o' at the coincidence. He must have noticed my surprised demeanor, for he shrugged casually. 

" Everyone knows that." He said lightly, grabbing the book from the table and glancing at it. I looked down at the floor, feeling foolish again. 

" Then I suppose I'm not everyone." With one simple sentence, his eyes flitted over to me, wide, stern, shining hungrily, almost. And while he looked at me, all I could notice was how handsome he was in my eyes, and how he made my heart tremble, though I knew how cruel he could be. 

_Can you hear my heart, Draco?_

" No…" he mused softly. " I suppose _we_ aren't everyone." I listened attentively, a frown crossing my face as I struggled to understand what he meant. 

" I know everything, Virginia." He said, his face an inch away from mine. " I know everything that haunts you, everything you desire to be, everything you have _potential_ to be." He paused, tilting my chin upward. 

" And I want to help you." 

The words were wrong. 

I tore away from him, because everything was a lie, and I hated him. Hated him, yet helplessly intoxicated by him. 

"No!" I cried childishly. " Why would _you_ want to help me?" I wanted to let him know that I was untouchable, that I was strong, that he couldn't manipulate me. But with every word I uttered, I could feel the tears slowly rising, a sure sign that he affected me. He stared at me blankly, in all his glory, celebrating, mocking me because he was so much better than I. 

" Because I can." That was his simple answer. And it left so many questions.

_Don't say that._

" You just want to use me." I accused, my eyes narrowed until they were mere slits. He did not answer me, but kept his gaze on me as if he were calculating me—while my tears slowly fell, and I grew weaker in his trance. He stepped closer to me, an innocent frown on his face. 

_He was so close._

"Why do you resist fate?" he asked simplistically, as if that were something so very odd. My eyes widened as they met his, and I saw that he truly did not understand. I almost smiled. Pain, misery, cruelty he understood perfectly well—yet not this. I bit my lip, wondering how to answer him. Finally, I shrugged.

" Because I can." I replied smoothly, smiling at the irony. But any thoughts that would've flown in were stopped, because at that moment, he leaned in—and I was engulfed in his mysterious eyes, engulfed in his wondrous and enticing scent, and soon found myself lost in his kiss. 

It was a kiss full of hunger, full of yearning to know why, and he kept on asking with his lips—while I stood still. 

_Tell me everything._

I let everything fall, and wrapping my small arms around him, I gave in, kissing him back, asking back why he was the way he was—begging him to answer _my_ questions. And though I asked questions, a part of me held on because I had drifted off into one of my dreams, and in my arms I held the boy I loved.

All the while my heart jumped with excitement, for that faint hope had been ignited, that indeed he had feelings, and that he could have feelings for _me_, just another Weasley. 

But as with every good thing, it came to an end abruptly. He pulled back suddenly, and the moment shattered. His eyes were narrowed dangerously, and he was frowning, thin lips pursed. His eyes accused me, and they made me sweat, made me stumble, made me fall.

_Tell me, Virginia._

A look of immense look crossed my face, and my fists clenched with pain, realizing that he meant none of it, realizing that it was just another way to use me. Mustering all the strength and dignity I had within me—for I was humiliated beyond comprehension—I shook my head and slowly walked away, books clutched under my chin.

" Because I can, Draco Malfoy." 

Reality had hit me again, and I felt my heart ache yet grow stronger in a sense. It was a game—and unless he gave me answers, I wouldn't give him any either. 

*--This excerpt comes from Grimms' Fairy Tales, by the brothers Grimm, translated by Mrs. E.V. Lucas, Lucy Crane, and Marian Edwardes.

A/N: Thank yous: **Mop Head and her Daemon **(Hehe, I know what you mean ^_~), **Crystal**, **Jin Munku-JGSPTV **( *blushes * Gracias ^_^), **The Charmed One, Candycane** (Heh, yea, it can be a bit confusing…IM me sometime and ask me 'bout it. Thanks a bunch for reading this story too ^_^), **Imp, **and to the **anonymous reviewer** ( True poetry? Eep…Thank you!) Review please. Go on, hit the blue button. 


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Whew. A long chapter, compared to my other ones. Once again, thank you to the reviewers. And don't forget: review. If you hate it, tell me in a review, if you think it's ok, tell me in a review, if you like it, tell me in a review.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Though My Heart Is From Hell

Chapter 4

I tore through the halls as fast as I could, unaware of anything in front of me. My eyes watered from the intensity of the wind that blew, and that was when I realized that I have drifted off outside. 

The lake I stood by was calm and quiet, blue and serene. I saw myself staring back at me questioningly. 

And there I sat, thinking over the events that had only just occurred. To put it simply, without boring you to death, or smothering you with my suicidal and depressing thoughts, I had been foolish. To ever think that something good would happen to me, perhaps. It wasn't the fact that he had taken _advantage_ of me so easily, it was the fact that I had believed that it could be real, that he could have been attracted to me. I told myself again that I would have to stop being so naïve. 

Picking up a small, smooth stone that sat on the ground next to me, I threw it down in the pale water, watching as my reflection shattered, then watched it ripple back into place again. I picked up another smooth stone to throw into the waters again, but something stopped me. I took a look at myself, and I saw confusion and hurt in my dark brown eyes, staring back at me sadly. Once again. But then, there was something else lodged in with that. I saw fiery anger, anger that could not be smoldered, anger that came from tears cried one too many times. 

Letting the stone drop, I stood up, turning away from the too calm lake. I had meant to do something about Draco today, I had really meant to try and help myself from falling further…I really had…But what could I do if Draco beat me to the game?

_Well done, Draco Malfoy. _

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It was after dinner, and I was by the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room, book on my lap as I studied. Soon, I heard footsteps thudding on the other side of the room, near the portrait hole, and I could tell it was Harry, Ron and Hermione simply by the way their footsteps pounded on the ground.

" Hullo, Ginny." Ron greeted rather jovially, face looking slightly red. I looked up and offered him a weak smile before looking at Hermione, who was smiling warmly at me, and Harry, who was ruffling his ever messy hair. They seemed so happy. 

" Have you finished your homework, then?" Ron asked, peering over my shoulders. I nodded quietly, looking down at my book, feeling uncomfort set in heavily as I felt their eyes on me. Anxiety, guilt; everything. The pen in my hand I chewed slowly, my eyes on the book beneath me yet not able to take in anything it said. 

" Well, we'll be off then, Ginny. Call us if you need anything." Ron patted me on the shoulder before his shoes thudded out of the room and up the stairs, Hermione following. I waited quietly, back hunched over, and I waited for the last pair of footsteps to go up the stairs, but they never did. 

The fire crackled noisily, and the room was so cheerful, what with it being adorned with scarlet and gold, but I felt a numbing tension fill up in me as he continued to stare at my back with his brilliant green eyes that seemed to know everything. 

With a snap, I turned around briskly, trying to work up a casual smile. 

" Aren't you going to join them, Harry?" I asked nonchalantly, eyes sparkling brightly beneath the square rimmed glasses I wore. He stared down at me with that odd, calculating look he wore often. Stepping forward, he smiled warmly. 

" Of course." He replied easily. Thud, thud thud. Soon he was up the stairs, and I was alone. 

I had tried to study. But I could not, and the words were a blur in front of me. Letting out a weary sigh, I closed the book and set it down on the table in front of me. 

Yet again, I felt trapped, and I felt as if I needed to run away, to where, I didn't know, but I knew I have to get away. Nodding, I got up and stretched, before calling up the stairs. 

"Ron, I'm going to the library!" My voice echoed through the walls, and for a moment, there was no answer. 

" Alright then! Don't be out too long!" I hurried out of the portrait hole and scurried down the familiar path to the dimming library. Heading toward the same table I had sat at in the morning, I looked for the book that I had been sure I had left on the table. It was not there. Looking over at the librarian, Madame Pince, I frowned, though she did not notice. Perhaps she had shelved it. 

Walking over to the Muggle Literature section yet again, I hummed a small tune as I guided my finger over the stack of books, searching for the right one. But it was not there. Confusion filled me again, for I did not know where it had gone. Perhaps it had been checked out already? 

Straightening my robes, I strode over to the librarian who was reading a small, black book, and cleared my throat, hoping to catch her attention. 

Her piercing eyes looked up, and looked at me once, narrowed suspiciously as she tried to figure out what I wanted. Shaking slightly, I cleared my throat again and tried to remember what I was going to say. 

' I—Madame Pince, uh, I would like to know if, uh, Grimms' Fairy Tales has been checked out?' I stuttered laughably like some idiotic fool, which I was, come to think of it. Her eyes narrowed further. Her lips tightened, and she hopped off her stool to come closer to me as I stood there frozen. 

_Fear._

I felt a hand on my shoulder. A cold hand, and Madame Pince's eyes averted to the owner. 

" Come now, Virginia. Don't bother Madame Pince." A cool, deep voice that I knew so well—and one I was slowly growing sick of. I looked toward my left and I saw his cruel sneer. As he led me over to one of the hidden tables, I did not know why I followed, I did not know why I did not resist—all I knew was that he was making my heart thump again, and he was making me feel vulnerable all over again. Bastard. 

" Looking for this?" he asked quietly. Looking at the object he held in his hands, I realized it was the book. I glared at him with all the hatred I could muster, and snatched it back angrily. 

" No need to get snappy, Virginia." He muttered, looking at me oddly. But this time, I would not stand for him. Though part of me was indeed happy that he was near me again, the raw feeling of hurt was still present in myself. 

" Get away from me." I pleaded, my voice cracking. He raised one eyebrow, never taking his eyes off of me. 

" And what if I don't?" he challenged, amusement in his voice. I didn't know. 

" Please…" I must have sounded pathetic and disgusting to his ears, though he did not show it, for I felt disgusted with myself. 

" Why are you mad, Virginia?" he asked in what he thought was a concerned voice. But it wasn't. And when I looked at his perfect face I saw that. Here was the man who did not know how I felt, nor would he ever know. I opened my mouth to answer him, millions of thoughts running through me. 

" Because—" But I stopped, because he was not looking at me any longer. His eyes were staring out the window, squinting as he struggled to see outside into the evening. Eyes widening slightly, he grabbed my shoulders and pushed me away, walking quickly away from me. 

" I have to go!" he called, before rushing out of the library. 

Immediately, I felt the confusion and emptiness set it as I realized what had just happened. Once again, I had failed to speak my mind passionately like I had imagined so in so many dreams, and he had once again blatantly ignored me, unable to see beyond my desires. Or so I thought. 

Slowly and wearily, I walked down the halls alone until I saw the familiar portrait of the Fat Lady again, and I spoke the password quietly, climbing in tiredly. I was not thinking of anything at the moment, I was merely basking in the confusion of his sudden leave, but the nagging voice in my head reminded me to think again of the horrible fate that could await me—if I do not take action. 

But I was tired. All I wanted was some rest, and to slip away from my life again. So, I lay sprawled across on the couch, book lain in front of me, the world seeming very far away. 

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A bang. A bang, and the portrait burst open, admitting three grim-faced figures that I recognized well. I awoke with a start, realizing that I had fallen asleep, still not completely grasping reality. As I looked around, ignoring the three for a moment, I saw other students scattered around the common room, eyes wide as they looked at Harry, Hermione and Ron, who had their wands pointed out in front of them. Without wasting a moment, and without giving any of us a chance to wonder what was going on, they rushed over to us and shouted for the whole room to hear. 

" 1st, 2nd, 3rd, 4th, 5th, and 6th years, please go to your dormitories now." Harry paused, fear dotting his every feature. 

"7th years, follow us." A few students got up and walked out the portrait hole without a word, and murmurs rose from the rest of us. What was going on? Harry pursed his lips and turned away along with Ron, while Hermione faced us still, her face so full of concern. 

" Go, now!" she repeated, jerking everyone to their senses. Slowly, they dropped everything that they had been doing and scurried up the stairs in a frenzy, for the alarm in their faces had not been forgotten. I followed them, book clutched tightly in my hand, my other hand clutching the rail next to me. 

People swarmed around me, eyes wide, mouths open as they yelled across the room, but I could not hear them. I stumbled with each step I took, and slowly, dizziness took me over, the black haze setting in stronger. 

My mind was screaming all the while, screaming things that did not make sense, yet things I could decipher. 

_Get to your room._

Innumerable chills shot up my body as the screams shook me, made me tremble with fear, great fear that I had never thought I could even come close to feeling. 

I don't know how I managed to reach my dormitory—perhaps someone had pulled me along the way. But when I reached my bed, I let out a whoosh of breath, falling gratefully onto it, wrapping myself with the quilts that lay on it. The screams I heard clearly now, and they came from everywhere around me. 

_He is here._

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When I woke up again, I was sweating profusely, cold, bitter sweat that mixed with the tears that had fallen while I slept. I could not remember the dream I had dreamt, but it had been horrible. Full of blood and screaming…and of horrors I didn't dare speak of. My mouth felt dry and surely there was a lump in the back of my throat, or perhaps that was the fear that immediately overtook me? 

I wrapped the quilts tighter around me, but that did not help shoo away the chills. Getting up and letting the blankets fall away, I licked my lips and gingerly placed a barefoot on the floor, glad that they met warm carpet instead of cold stone. 

I peeked out the door and into the dark hallway, hoping to catch some movement, hoping to get somewhere. When I saw no one, I crept down the stairs slowly, taking care not to let them creak, and winced as my feet touched the cold floor. 

_Green eyes._

" Harry?" Alarm reached my voice as I saw him sitting forlornly on the shabby couches that looked so dull—simply because the light outside was still gray. 

His tired eyes met mine and he smiled, pushing up his falling glasses. 

" Hullo, Ginny." He said. His voice was hoarse and I could feel his tiredness in the air. I walked over to him quietly, still in my nightgown and the questions returned to me, for I strived to understand, wanted to confirm my assumptions. 

" What happened, Harry?" I asked quietly, almost dreading the answer. He didn't answer for a while, however. Smoothing out my gown, I sat beside him, fixing him with a probing look as I struggled to get something out of him. 

"Just—" he paused, his breath coming out in short, erratic sighs. " Just an attack, Ginny." I sat silently, my face becoming stoic as I heard his words. 

" Nothing to worry about Ginny. No one you know was hurt." He added in what he hoped was a reassuring voice—but how could it be, when fear coursed through him like a raging river? 

Strangely enough, the prospect of an attack did no effect on me, and I remained silent and emotionless.

" Only some death eaters…" he trailed off, his voice distant as my thoughts wandered away from him. But when I heard those 4 words, my head snapped towards him, eyes wide and searching. 

" D-Death Eaters?" I repeated dubiously, fear clawing at my heart. He nodded casually, not thinking much of it. I should have dropped the matter and assumed that he was ok—perhaps he wasn't even a Death Eater, but I couldn't. Being the pathetic, lovesick thing I was, I couldn't. 

" Which ones, Harry? Do you know?" I asked eagerly, a hand on his shoulders. He turned toward me, suspicion in his eyes as he wondered why I was so intent on knowing. Shaking his head, he answered. 

" How would I know, Ginny?" I looked down at the floor, trying to calm my heart that had been thudding loudly. But Harry had seen enough. Taking my hand, he forced me to look in his eyes. 

" Why do you want to know?" he asked, his voice dangerously low. I shrugged, trying to writhe away from him. 

" Just wondering…" My voice was small and frightened, for he looked so menacing. He must have noticed, because he turned away, his expression softening. 

"Just remember: One less Death Eater in this world is one less innocent life lost." He told me quietly, green eyes probing my own, trying to look into them. But I would not let him. My hands shook so I grabbed the arm of the chair and took a deep breath, feeling the wind rushing into my lungs, making me feel breathless in an odd way. Strange worry overwhelmed me, and I felt an urgent call leading me away from the common room. 

I could not withstand such a strong force. I twirled around briskly and walked stiffly towards the portrait hole, face grim and eyes wide. 

" Where are you going, Ginny?" Harry called after me in alarm, and I could hear him stand up, and his footsteps soon thudded over to where I was, following me out into the corridors, pursuing me without relenting. 

" I…have to go, Harry." I said quietly so that only he could hear. I turned around and faced him. 

_I have to go. Forgive me._

His harsh expression softened for a moment, and he closed his eyes, clenching his fists. Putting a hand on my shoulder, he smiled lightly. 

" It's dangerous for you to be out here, Ginny." He insisted. I tried to resist, for the nagging in my body was getting intense, yet he was persistent and strong, and he led me back to where I started, leaving me frustrated. 

I couldn't understand. A big part of me—the part I that I could understand, the part that was rational, that part of me was frightened to death of the attack, and that part of me warned me to stay where I was instead of venturing into possibly dangerous paths. But the other part of me, though it was a small part, it was strong in an unruly way and if I tried to resist, I felt it grow stronger, and I felt myself grow dizzy and pained. Worry shadowed my mind, and I grew impatient. Impatient with myself, impatient with Harry. 

For hours I sat by the familiar fire of the common room, biting my nails nervously as I waited for news of the attack while Harry sat near as if keeping an eye on me, though he dozed off numerous times. 

And at long last, the portrait hole swung open to reveal my brother, face streaked with grime. He entered and saw Harry snoozing, then promptly woke him. 

" Harry—we have to go." He muttered, his voice harboring much fear. I sat straighter, wondering where he had to go, for even then, I was still naïve about such war. Harry did not protest and he and my brother left, left with just one look towards me, a look that said clearly, ' Stay here.'. But I could not. Curiosity, mischief, and worry took over me—and I had to go find him. If not find him, at least wander about the halls. I would not sit by the fire in safety all the while. Grabbing my black cloak from my dorm, I padded out the portrait hole quietly, watching for any one that passed by, and trusted that my senses would lead me to where I wanted to go. 

I wandered aimlessly along the halls for a long while—at some points it seemed hopeless. Yet something kept me going, something kept this burning inside my heart, this burning that made me go. 

The wind blew. I looked around and saw that I had walked outside into a dark evening. Looking up at the sky, there were dark gray clouds that threatened to burst. Wrapping the cloak tighter around myself, I walked along the grounds. Perhaps I was taking some time to think—to reminiscence, or to further think of what I had to do—those certain depressing matters I had not much thought of since the library. 

'_Damn it!'_

The loud hiss snapped me out of my thoughts and I looked around frantically, searching for the source. I soon found it. 

His blonde head was hung low as he hissed and groaned in pain, and he sat under the tree alone, cursing and brooding. He looked up, and his great gray eyes glared up at me, menacing, accusing, wary—it was also dotted with annoyance. 

Ignoring the way in which he stared at me, I looked down at his arm. My stomach churned slightly as my mind registered the image before me. Blood all over his robes, crimson blood, dark, metallic blood. The cut was huge and the bleeding had not stopped. Skin that had not completely broken off flapped as the wind blew, and I winced. And a moment later, another emotion took me over. Worry, concern. Those feelings overwhelmed me, and I could not contain myself. I rushed over to him and grabbed his arm, looking it over, biting my lip. I tried not to. I really did.

But my salty, bitter tears fell upon his wound. 

I loved him. And he knew. 

Because when I looked up at him, eyes still full of tears, he sneered at me, almost pitying me. I felt hatred toward myself, I felt humiliated—because I obviously cared for him. And he obviously did not. He laughed at all my silly antics, laughed at the way I could not fight against him. The maddening part? He was right.

Shifting his position, he cleared his throat. 

"So, are you going to help me, Virginia?" he asked amusedly, knowing the answer all too well. Powerless over my own feelings, I nodded, and after ripping a piece of _my_ cloak, I wrapped it tightly around his wound. 

"Follow me." 

Slowly I walked back towards the castle.

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'_Shit!_' He hissed loudly, wincing in pain. I glared at him. 

"I told you it would hurt," I reminded him. " But you're going to have to deal with it." He looked away and I took that as acceptance. I dabbed the swab over the wound again, then took out the gauze and wrapped it around the area that was cut. It had stopped bleeding by now, and for that I was grateful. I smiled at his arm as I finished, feeling satisfied with my own work. I looked up at him for his approval—I suppose that was what mattered most to me. It was also the first time I had smiled in ages. 

He was looking down at me oddly, no sense of respect in his eyes. For a moment, he did not say anything.

" You like me, don't you?" he commented suddenly, eyes hooded and challenging they glanced at me. Silence rang loudly through the room.

I turned away, feeling that I could not answer the question. I did not want to, and it did not need to be answered. My heart rocked and ached as I looked out the window, and his eyes were always on me. 

Then he laughed. Laughed cruelly, sadistically, laughed in all the ways I remembered Tom to have. 

I couldn't take anymore, I didn't want to—I wanted so much to push him away with no hesitation, to not care if he had fallen off a cliff. 

So I turned to him, eyes narrowed and glistening, wondering if he had gone crazy. 

And that was when I saw the tattoo snaking over his arm gracefully. Shining proudly, darkly, and suddenly his face seemed to grow malicious, crueler, colder, and fear engulfed me. But I stood my stance and continued staring at him—that much I could do. Fire burned in me, this time anger mixed with horror, because he knew I loved him. And now my fears had been confirmed. I felt weak, powerless, like a chained dove, struggling to fly away to bring peace to the world. 

He sat there in the Gryffindor common room, looking like a beautiful demon. He sat there next to me, and I ached in vain. I ached alone, and the world laughed at me. 

_A flash._

His eyes…they flashed dangerously and within them I saw screaming, murder, blood, danger…humid hell--all mixed together in a cold fury of gray and silver. Soon I felt my heart ripping out of me, for his lips of fire were upon my own yet again, and everything inside of me he took with him. My heart, soul, mind—everything I had thought I could forever grasp.

His cold hands wrapped around me and pushed me harshly onto the couch as he lay on top of me, lips trailing onto my neck, leaving me panting, gasping, crying bitter tears because I was so addicted to him, so intoxicated to him—and though I thought of this as heaven, forbidden, painful heaven…it was all an illusion. He smiled at me cruelly through his lips, and I knew everything that he was. Cruel, heartless, deceiving, ambitious. And I could only wonder one thing: Why couldn't circumstances be different? Why couldn't he be kind? Why did I have to fall in love with him? So if I had, why does God not give me a reason?

_Don't cry, Virginia._

Though I could sense what he was telling me with every blink of his eye, every movement of his body, he whispered only one thing into my ear, one thing to send my mind reeling, leaving me incapable of feeling remorse.

'_You're mine.' _

Another flash, and a burst of strength 

I was screaming. Eyes closed, my body shaking, I mustered every strength I had in me and pushed him away, pushed him away though he was at the same time drawn to me—or perhaps, I drawn to him. 

I stood up, hair a mess, eyes bloodshot as I struggled to breathe properly. 

" Get away from me, Draco." I whispered quietly, pathetically. His arms crossed, he stared at me, towering over my head. 

"So _fickle_, aren't we?" he murmured. Stepping closer, he smirked slightly. " Can't decide what we want?" I looked down at the wooden floor. 

"You know that's not what I mean." His eyebrows raised in mock surprise. 

"Oh?" Fire burned in my heart and I wanted to shout at him everything that I had said to myself. 

_You deceiving bastard. Go on then, take advantage of me. Use me, kiss me, then throw me away. Leave me lying lifelessly on the cold floor, fading with the passing wind. You know I love you, and you use me for the destruction of everything that was once known. _

"Stop." I pleaded simply. A pause. 

"Stop what?" he asked innocently, stepping even closer. I closed my eyes, feeling bile coming up my throat. As my hand touched my forehead, it met cold sweat. 

"I can't do this, Draco." I said, asking of him something that I was quite sure he would not agree to. 

"Can't do what?" he persisted, insisting that he did not know what I was talking about. 

"Can't fight." A cruel smile formed on his pale, glowing face. 

"Oh, but Virginia—that's where you're wrong. _You don't have to fight._" I looked at him, eyes wide. My heart quickened and soon thumped loudly. And as it always did, my vision got blurred soon, my cheeks wet. 

"Crying again?" he mocked, no change in disposition though he saw me cry. " Weak." He spat disdainfully. With one swift stride, one stride that made my surroundings pass like a swirl of colors, he stood over me, and I stared up at him fiercely, full of sudden determination. 

"Oh, but I do. I do have to fight, Draco. I'll fight hard and strong—undaunted by _you._ And when I win this battle within myself, I'll get rid of you. I'll make it so that I won't spend another day thinking of you and your damn gray eyes." My voice was loud, clear and with surprising force. The sound of it lingered in the room for a while, but soon the silence replaced it. I stared at him still, and he stared back at me—yet there wasn't a single spark missing. He was still as sure, still as determined, still as willing to fight the battle. 

" I am a worthy opponent, don't you think?" he questioned. Flustered by the oddness of the question, I nodded, quickly losing my fierceness only seconds before. 

" You would be a strong opponent as well, Virginia—but you have weaknesses that I do not have." 

"I have none." I said, hoping I was right though doubt filled my heart. He chuckled, lifting my chin up slightly. 

"Love is weakness, Virginia." I was crestfallen. I had been so pumped with strength only moments ago, because I knew I had to fight, and knowing that I had no choice in the matter helped me. But now the light had once again closed up, for Draco had yet again spoken the truth, putting in simple, short words what I had already thought of millions of times at night when all the things around me seemed to go away, leaving me secluded in the dark, with only the stars as windows. 

A cough. That was all that took to snap me out of my reverie. I stared at him, for he had grabbed his cloak. 

"Why bother fighting when you have no hope?" he asked. I did not answer. Sighing slightly, he looked me up and down once more before he nodded at me, a sign of good-bye. Then he disappeared out of the portrait hole. Leaving me feeling once again angry. I had not said all that I had wanted to say, I had not won at all. And I wondered.

_Why bother fighting when you have no hope?_

Because my life was worth fighting for? Because everything I believed in, whether it had been once upon a time, was worth keeping? Because the world as I knew it I loved? 

Or perhaps because I wanted to once feel the wind brush lightly on my face, and after, I wanted to smile lightly, breathing in the fresh air, feeling as if I were the wind, flying all over the seas, flying under the sun, and kissing the stars and moon at night. I wanted to be free, to live the memories of long ago…

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I was cloaked in black robes…I proceeded down the hall quietly, and I did not recognize the place I was in. But soon I met the great ugly doors to the chamber in which I was called to, and it no longer mattered. As it was thrust open with amazing strength, I came face to face with a huge room full of others cloaked in robes, hooded as they moved aside for me. 

_ And I walked down, cruel smile upon my face as I reached the destination. I was sure of what I wanted to do, and I was sure that I had to meet whomever it was that sat at the end. Though the fear was there, it was surprisingly weak. _

_ And I stopped in front of him. Only his blood red lips I could see, and his glowing eyes so cruel, malicious, showing everything that was pain and misery. His lips curled up into a satisfied sneer. _

_ 'Welcome…' _

_I bowed before him, my master, his greatness…_

_ He laughed, laughed because everything was perfect, and there was no way to lose now. _

_ I stared down at my arm and saw the snake. Saw it shine and glisten in glory. I should have been scared, alarmed, but I was not. With that glance, all fear rushed out of me, banished forever. I wanted to be here._

_ And I laughed too, for indeed, how would we lose with I on their side? How would Harry Potter defend himself now, when fate and luck have deserted him?_

To Be Continued…

A/N: Click the blue button.


	5. Chapter 5: the beginning of the end

A/N: Please read and review.

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Chapter Five: The beginning of the end

_I awoke with a start._ I was disgruntled by the odd dream and became aware of it immediately, and took a few moments to calm down. 

And after, I took a quick shower to wipe away all traces of the cold sweat that had formed through the night. I went down to breakfast, where everyone was solemn and silent. No buzz of the usual silence, and everything seemed to be draped in gray and black. And I couldn't even try to forget anything.

The dream, nevertheless, unnerved me for a while, but I didn't think much of it then.

The school was still quietly whispering on about the attack in hurried hushes, and all was still in chaos. Many were left in the hospital wing, and Ron and Hermione had grim looks on their faces. No one dared count how many were dead, and who had been lost, but indeed there were many tears found on the faces of the student body. Classes were no more, for a few days.

Much blood had been spilled, they said. And at meals, when I looked at the face of each who had fought, I saw what had changed. It was so obvious, yet so stealthily replaced that perhaps, the look had been there all along. Maybe each one of them had their own share of secrets and horrible memories, and maybe each one could relate to me and what I was going through. I pushed the thought away.

And so my eyes came to Ron and Hermione. Affected, but they were ok. 

It was Harry that startled me. He stared blankly off into space all the time, and where had once been life in him, in his very skin and the way he walked and in so many other ways, now everything about him was weary and tired. Like he had walked too many miles and seen too much blood and cruelty. I felt sympathy, alright, but it wasn't as if I could do anything.

His skin seemed more _gray_ than anything else, and he seemed thin and weary. 

He would rarely eat or speak. But no one did anything about it, if Hermione and Ron had noticed. They just went about their own business, and let him be. 

Ron told me things would get better, and that life would become normal again. I was eager to believe him.

But the gray clouds in the sky never lifted, and they were no longer mistaken as storm clouds. Those were the smoke clouds dotted with the bitter and metallic smell of blood that had spilled on Hogwarts grounds days ago and now the blood on the grass had begun to dry, and they would be remembered forever. The first war, but certainly not the last. It was all false hope, in my view. A feeling that told me that from here on, the climax was to come, and things were no where near over. Peace was far. It was ironic, the whole idea. A paradox. To be united as one, we had to fight divided. To bring happiness and joy to the world, many lives had to be lost. It didn't make sense. There were times when I wanted to crumple down to the floor and cry until I drowned in my own tears, because that would be better than this—not knowing what would happen next, yet knowing that there was no way out of this.

I was on the point of destruction, because such a big part of me was affected by the war, and the victim right in front of my eyes; Harry. Haunted by his glass eyes that was only a part of a stoic stone statue. For only a day, I let myself wonder just what had happened out there, just how horrible it was, how traumatizing it had been. I couldn't start to imagine. But then, I stopped thinking about such things, or tried to. And because of that, I found refuge in the library.

All day I stayed in the library, doing whatever I could to distract myself. I searched not for the answer as to why things seemed so wrong, especially about Harry, but for the easy way out, to avoid everything and to get lost in a wonderful world of amazing fantasies, where the wind never blew too cold, and every day the tide rushed in softly at your ankles. 

_And someone was always there, holding your hand to break your fall._

And it was that second day, when I sat alone in the library, that I saw him. Harry Potter, and finally alone with him, to question him, to look at him as long as I liked. The same sickening look of gloom was on his face—it had not left. He sat down across from me, but his motions were almost robotic, and I admit, he did frighten me. I was hesitant, but I just couldn't bring myself to ignore him. I wanted to sympathize with him and I was thirsty for knowledge. 

"Harry?" I called out, smiling as cheerfully as I could manage. He looked up vaguely, and did not acknowledge my presence. 

For minutes, he sat quietly, staring off into the air as if some wonderful image was displayed on it and he was mesmerized and unwillingly drawn to it. He didn't move, and I couldn't even tell if her were breathing. I, myself, gazed at him for long, trying to peer through his stone eyes and see for myself what was going on in that mind of his.

But nothing for seconds…then minutes. And so, I ignored him, sufficing to his presence with a lamenting sigh, and turned back to the book.

_In the old times, when it was still of some use to wish for the thing one wanted, there lived a king whose daughters were all handsome, but the youngest was so beautiful that the sun himself, who has seen so much, wondered at her beauty each time he shone over her. Near the royal castle there was a great dark wood, and in the wood under an old linden tree was a well. When the day was hot, the King's daughter used to go forth into the wood and sit by the brink of the cool well. And if the time seemed long, she would take out a golden all and throw it up and catch it again, and this was her favorite pastime._

_Now it happened one day that the golden ball, instead of falling back into the maiden's little hand which had sent it aloft, dropped to the ground near the edge of the well and rolled in. The King's daughter followed it with her eyes as it sank, but the well was deep--so deep that the bottom could not be seen. The she began to weep, and she wept and wept as if she could never be comforted._

"I want to die, you know." He said suddenly, abruptly, and his voice was strangely deep, clear and annunciated.

I looked up, and the book closed, my eyes narrowed and quite flustered at him. I was undoubtedly surprised at the subtlety and bizarreness of what he had told me, and it took such a long time for it to even sink in to my mind still swimming with images of princesses and princes. I looked up and smiled, trying to figure out if he were just joking. Being cheerful, jovial, compensating for all the time so far he had been acting odd. But my teeth clenched as I saw his face—stern and certainly aged and in a way hardened and guarded because of the cruelty he was going through-- and saw that he was serious.

"What do you mean, Harry?" I asked lightly, hands trembling as they reached for his. I had on a calm façade—but _oh_, I was shaking inside by the tumultuous words he spoke.

He glared at me fiercely, and his dull eyes seemed to suddenly flash with energy.

" I deserve to die." He answered firmly, as if it were wrong and a crime to differ from his opinion.

Sending millions of tiny, skin piercing chills up my spine in an endless circle. I leaned forward, staring straight into his eyes relentlessly, straining to keep eye contact. My eyes watered at how luminous his eyes were, but he didn't see me. They were unfocused and far away and _unreachable_.

" Why're you saying this, Harry?" The silence that ensued was too long, and in the moments in silence, we gazed at each other.

He didn't answer. He only stared ahead of him, like a beautiful, cold statue. I grasped his hands tighter and shook it slightly, jolting his body, hoping for a reaction.

"Answer me!" My voice cracked and became shrill with panic. My stomach churned, my mind was beginning to grow hazy, and I was worried, because this wasn't the Harry I had known before.

"I…_deserve to die…_" He repeated slowly; monotonously, as if trying to figure out exactly what he meant himself. My eyes were wide and they searched his blank face repeatedly, but there was nothing I could understand from the frightening revelation. Slowly, his eyes turned on mine, and he looked _through_ me. I felt his confused state of mind, and realized for the first time that Harry Potter was indeed, deeply troubled. 

_I deserve to die…_

_Something hissed at me, something nasty and horrible…and it was reality, and all the things I had ignored before came thundering back to me…_

" Harry--" My hands left his, and my mind snapped back to my world, his eyes unfocused again. I took a deep breath, my mouth feeling dry. "I-I have to go." I whispered hurriedly, grabbing my things with urgency. He didn't answer, nor did he shift in relief or protest. 

I left quickly, my small feet carrying me far. The walls around me I did not care to look at, and I didn't care where my legs lead me. 

But then again, I suppose I did know where I was going, perhaps there _was_ some intuitive sense empowering me, because I found him quickly and unexpectedly, my mouth forming an o shape as I saw him standing by the lake.

He looked oddly solemn and forlorn. The wind blew fast outside, and I struggled to get to him, red strands of my hair lashing out at my face, stinging my cheeks and eyes. I breathed a sigh of relief as I reached the spot underneath the tree, the place we had met the last time, when he had been wounded. It seemed like a normal place to meet, somehow, though in my years at Hogwarts, I had rarely found myself there. 

" I thought I'd find you here." He said quietly, looking off into the horizon, wind blowing his usually well-kept hair in all directions. 

"What are you doing here?" I asked him. 

" Thinking." He replied easily. I nearly laughed at his answer.

"Thinking? Wondering? Being philosophical?" I mocked him, leaning against the tree—feeling almost relaxed for the moment. His presence suddenly soothed me. He turned to me suddenly, though, and his gray eyes disapproved. 

"Something troubles you deeply, though you choose to deny it, and yet you still find room for laughter and mockery?" He asked irritably, lips pursing. I stood silent for a moment, blinking in disgusting _stupidity_. I knew what he meant. But still I underestimated him and just how obvious he was going to be with me, and still I was naïve and stupid.

"_W-What_ do you mean?" I stuttered, brushing my hair back behind one ear.

"You know what I mean, Virginia." He murmured, his voice suddenly soft and wondering. "So for _god's_ sake…stop denying yourself the knowledge your heart already knows, and be content." His hands cupped my chin, and his eyes were hooded, a pair of chipped ice staring down at me, making me rigid. I pushed him away with disdain, however. 

"It's always about you, Malfoy." I started, face red with fury. "Always about getting what you want, always about cutting straight to the chase, and being too realistic and being too much of a smart ass for your own good." 

"Can't we ever talk alone about nothing at all?" 

But he only smirked down at me; as if he knew something I did not know, and he ignored anything else I had said.

"Once again, Virginia—you disgust me with your blatant ignorance of what lies so obviously in front of your very eyes." He muttered. "I never waste my time with idle talk, because there is no time. And yet, I find myself doing just that whenever I talk to you, just because of _ignorance_. Open your eyes, Virginia, and see all the chance, all the opportunity, glory, hope, valor you should receive--if only you would accept the reality and embrace who you were always meant to be." 

His words scarred me, somehow, in someway I could not place, and I spat spiteful words at him.

"I don't think I was meant to be anything, Draco. And I'd like it if you stopped judging me." 

"Just like Potter was never meant to _defeat_ the dark lord? He just got awful lucky, didn't he?" He countered dangerously, eyes flashing with contempt and uncontrollable malice. I turned away, choking back words that I knew I would regret. 

"I don't know." I answered, hands trembling beneath me as I looked at them. 

"Don't be a fool." He growled impatiently. "No one gets lucky that many times." He paused, taking a moment to take a breath. 

"But fate is a fickle thing. It shifts as easily as the wind does, and it can make time slow so that your lifetime is a life of a star, or fate can let time loose, slipping through your fingers like sand. No one said life was fair, or good. It's only about power. And Potter--he'll fall soon." 

I looked up at him, frowning heavily. 

"And how would you know?" I scoffed at him. " What, you can tell the future?" I continued looking at him, but he looked away. He looked towards the sky, avoiding my glance, and took a moment in silence—perhaps to collect his thoughts. 

"Don't you know?" He half laughed, albeit bitterly. " Don't you know how it's going to be?" I shook my head rapidly, urging him to go on, because I had to know, because though his words were vague, I couldn't suppress the slight feeling of panic growing in me.

"Potter _finally_ obtained a brain. Realized that the only thing the dark lord wanted was him. His dead body surrounded by a pool of blood. And he'd do anything to get what he wants. Including war, bloodshed, and the last breath of many people both innocent and guilty. The fields of grass that once shone only with the morning dew will now shine with thick blood of those who had died in battle. Realized that he wasn't worth the trouble, realized that he couldn't handle the pressure--he didn't want to. Being dead would be better, because when you're dead, it's the end. Existence will be nothing but a word that you had known an eternity ago, and darkness will engulf you. When you're dead, you don't have troubles. When you're dead, who cares about what happens in our world?" His face loomed near my trembling face, his eyes fixed on my own eyes brimming with tears, and he smiled dryly. 

"Mark my words. Potter will take his life, and it will all end quickly and without a flaw. And when Potter's gone, who then will lead the foolish to their dreams of victory against the greatest dark lord of all time?" He asked—and his voice was deadly, and so full of bitterness and…his words were true.

Tears flew down my cheeks at his words, at his premonition, imagining the world in havoc, and darkness flooding what once was light. But I wiped my tears away, and thrusting my chin upwards, I pried my lips open and dared to protest.

"It isn't true—Harry wouldn't do that." I said weakly, forcing the words out of my mouth. 

"So ends the great saga of _Harry Potter_. In the end, he dies, just like the others._"_ He whispered, eyes glinting and laughing at me, laughing at my pathetic attempts to stand up straight, to make him see that he is wrong. 

_Join him now, and you will live and be honoured forever._

My eyes fluttered shut, and I could hear clashing of swords in the background, smell the scent of metallic blood spilling over the pure, barren ground, and beneath my closed eyelids, I saw Harry Potter lying dead.…_alone in the drafty room, lips of crimson closed, eyes of green never to see the world again._

"No!" I flailed out at the empty air, and upon opening my eyes again, I only saw Draco Malfoy staring at me, only felt the cold wind against my skin, only smelt the clean air. 

_Lying dead…all alone…_

With a violent jolt that came from no-where, I was filled with irrepressible panic, and I looked around, panting, gasping for breath. 

As fast as I could, I fled the scene, ran away from him and flew in the great doors. I ran up the long flight of marble stairs that seemed to stretch on forever, and then I halted at the portrait hole, because my heart dropped low.

The portrait was gone, leaving only a vast opening for anyone to step in. 

I ran in.

And I saw a pair of brilliant green eyes, eyes I had fallen in love with many years ago…and saw the glint of metal beneath his neck. 

"_Harry!!"_ I screamed shrilly and loudly, and the walls around me shook and trembled, but nothing changed. I saw his hands tighten around the ruby-encrusted hilt, his knuckles turning white from the effort. And everything made sense.

The dream. Harry and Draco.

I reached for him, but I was too slow, and too scared and this world was just too real. In this world, things never went the way I wanted it to. And so I watched silently as it plunged into his heart…

He looked at me one last time, eyes wide, lips curling up into a bright and reassuring smile that left me in a heap on the ground.

He said good-bye.

He fell, and his eyes closed _forever._

And I sat beside his limp body, drenched in tears and Harry Potter's blood.

To be continued… 


	6. Chapter 6: Running

A/N: This is a really crappy chapter. R/R, nevertheless, and I shall love you. 

Chapter 6: Running 

** I took a deep breath, my mouth feeling dry. ' I-I have to go.' I whispered hurriedly, grabbing my things with urgency. The only thought that had been going through my head: I don't need this problem right now…**

If only I had tried to talk to him. If only, if only… Maybe if I had, this wouldn't have happened. If I had just taken the time to talk to him, maybe I wouldn't have ever seen his horrible death. Was this guilt I was feeling? 

I wiped tears away from my face sloppily, and found that there were no more. I still couldn't comprehend anything that had just happened, and it seemed like a horrible nightmare. 

I was left alone, hidden behind the draped curtains of my four-poster bed, while the world behind me was in chaos. Harry Potter was dead. 

He would be someone only in the history of magic, with an end so tragic that no one would dare speak of it openly. 

My mouth was dry with horror, my hands still trembling, and yet, there I sat. I can't describe how I felt at that moment. If I really could have felt much, it would've been pain so great, so many emotions the English language didn't have words for. And that's why I had to numb everything. Numb so much of reality, that all I felt was blank confusion, and the distant knowledge that someone important had died this night. 

I don't know how I fell asleep. It was a restless one, and I didn't want to go to sleep at all, because I would soon wake up to face everything that had really happened. 

------------------------------------+

Everything was draped in black. Rather depressing color, it was. I stood out like a bright light against the night, and I sat calmly in the chair, staring ahead of me. I suppose I would've looked somewhat similar to the way Harry had looked. Blank. 

They stared at me with urgency, rubbing their chins thoughtfully, constantly jotting down notes on their scrolls of parchment. Thankfully they made no pathetic attempt to console me. I don't know where everyone else was, but the questions these strange men asked me reminded me of the night before, when everything had stopped—and begun again. 

_A scream. Hermione saw him, eyes wide with horror as I reached up to her, my hands drenched in thick blood. But she didn't see me. She only saw Harry, lying dead on the floor. Her hands flew up to her mouth and tears began springing out of her eyes. She reached for him, clutching at his wet robes, caressing his face for some response, but there was nothing. Soon, her screams were heard by the others and plenty more came…Witches and Wizards and Professors and students and the Headmaster. All crowded around me, despairing over the horrible loss, and I don't believe anyone really thought that it had indeed happened. Slowly, their eyes darted around toward me, and their wary eyes accused me for his death, hated me for it. I looked to Ron and grabbed his hand. He was my big brother. _

_ 'I didn't do it, Ron…' I whispered. He looked away._

'Did you do it, Ginny?' He asked, eyes wide. I looked up at him, eyes narrowed hatefully. How dare he ask such a question? He was a fool. 

'No.' 

He sighed and stood up straight, beginning to walk around the room, staring off into space as if deciding what to inquire me next. But before he asked me anything else, he nodded to his partner, and with a slight bow, his friend left the room, the door clicking shut. He stopped in front of me and kneeled before me, as if his disposition would do better than standing up, towering over me—intimidating me. The thoughts, the idle, bemused thoughts that were going through my head were almost frightening. I was supposed to feel utter despair. But I didn't. I thought of them as thoughts that weren't quite sane, because I was so shocked that it was going to take a while for the blow to really affect me. 

'Then who did it?' He asked. I looked up at him fiercely.

'It was suicide.' I muttered softly, fists clenching. A blatant answer, but it was the only way I knew how. He sighed, as if frustrated, but he didn't go. Repositioning himself, he licked his lips and allowed himself a small smile. 

'Suicide?' He repeated. I nodded quickly, looking down at the floor again, my red hair covering my face from view. 

'Can you tell me everything that happened last night, Ginny?' He asked me lightly, as if he were only inquiring the time of day. Surprisingly, I found that I tried to recall what had really happened. I didn't know why—I certainly didn't owe this man anything. But as I sat there, blinking rapidly, I saw flashes of the night before. I began to remember again his face smiling at me, and the way the sword had shined against the light that had come from no where, and I remembered the first tear that had dropped when I saw him fall. 

'I…ran up the stairs and went through the portrait hole…he was there…' I started slowly, hesitantly, closing my eyes and trying to remember more. 

'How did you know he was here?' He asked. I blinked again, and I answered. 

'I…didn't know.' I said. ' It was instinct.' It was crazy—it sounded crazy, and no one would believe me. I knew he didn't believe me. He was silent, and I could feel his eyes boring into my face, amazed at the prospect of knowing that Harry was here in the common room. 

'And then what happened?' He asked, and his voice was the same tone as before. He talked to me as if I was insane, and I think he was right. 

'And then…' I struggled with my words, eyes shut close tightly, and I could feel the cold beads of sweat rolling down my temple. 'And then…' I tried again. I saw his dead face, saw his smile, and heard the silent whisper of goodbye. I was reliving the night before, and god it was hard.

'He died.' My lips trembled. My hands grabbed the sides of the chair, and I took a deep breath. I looked up and glared at him. He gaped at me, and his quill was still. 

'Bastard.' I spat, getting up from the chair abruptly. 'Why are you doing this to me? What is there to know?' He stared blankly, quite speechless.

'We want to know what happened.' He said calmly, though his eyes darted from side to side, shifting uncomfortably. It was all a lie. He wanted to accuse me of killing him. They wanted to shun me, because they had no one else to blame. I didn't owe him an explanation—why, when he wouldn't listen?

'There's nothing to know.' I said. ' He died. Nothing I tell you will change that. I can't tell you anything if you won't listen.'

I walked out, leaving the stupid fool blinking in the Gryffindor common room. 

My hands clutched at my hair as I ran down the stairs frantically, face flushed from the speed I was going at. It seemed as if I had been running a lot lately, but who wouldn't? 

Running was so easy. 

I ran to him. I ran downwards toward the dungeons and somehow weaved through the maze of cold, drafty corridors and found the final flight of stairs descending down to where the Slytherins dwelled. No one was in sight. There was nothing guarding the dungeons, and I ran in, hair flying out behind me, arms reaching out for him. He sat on the couch very much alone, and when his eyes flitted over to me, not even surprise registered into them. He merely dropped his books and embraced me tightly. 

I don't know if it was any comfort, staying in his arms, because his hug did not warm me in the slightest. 

'Get out of here.' He whispered in my ear. I barely heard him through the ringing in my ears. He grabbed my wrist and dragged me out of the room, out in the cold corridors again. 

When we were both distanced, he stared at me with something remotely like disgust, and from his pocket, he fished out a handkerchief. He handed me the small square of cloth, and I accepted it hastily. I was a mess, and I wiped away my tears with his handkerchief, and I could smell his scent, having buried my face in it. 

And I thought, _He would listen to me. _

'They accuse you.' He muttered. I stared up at him, wiping my nose. His gaze turned directly to me, and he lifted my chin upwards, so that I stared straight into his cool eyes.

'Innocent little Virginia. The people that you love so much now shun you.' His words were soft and harsh. I hated how he was always right. I stared up at him with trembling lips, and my hands reached up to his neck, arms snaking around them as I clung to him. 

And now, in my state of mind, he didn't seem like an enemy. He was wise and beautiful and he was my friend. He would help me. Nothing else mattered. 

But suddenly, he pushed me away. 

'You stupid girl. Look what you've done. I told you over again, and you didn't believe until now. You've ruined yourself and you have no one to blame but yourself. _You_ were the one that was ignorant.'

'You have only me.' He smirked triumphantly, voice lowering to a whisper. He stepped closer to me, and let me wrap my arms around him again. I looked up at him with admiration, almost. That day, I would let him talk all he wanted, and I wouldn't mind at all. I stroked his cheek softly, marveling at just how cold he was. 

It was me who kissed him that time, and it was a slow kiss. I was crazy to kiss him. It was only to taste a bit of something ethereal and sharp, something intoxicating so that I would be numb again. I used him because I had nothing else.

His lips brushed against my neck, and my lips parted as I felt a jolt of pleasure run down my spine. His lips quickly found mine again, and his tongue darted in, dominating, tasting of cinnamon and ice and mint, and everything that was intriguing. He taste like…_Draco_. 

No one had ever kissed me like this. No one could kiss me like this except him. And while I clung to him, I couldn't think of anything other than how much I wanted to savor this moment forever, and not wake up and know that he only kissed me because he could. 

He pulled away suddenly, eyes slightly fogged. He grabbed my arm and pulled me away from the corridor, down into the depths of his lair, where we were secure around four walls, and the air wasn't quite as cold.

I found myself staring up at him, panting from the excitement of it all as I lay on his soft bed, the curtains draped around us. His breaths were short and heavy but his gaze was still as fierce and full of suspicion and mystery as they had been before—so much cold gray. His light hair fell in his face carelessly, and his lips were tight with determination. 

He was undoubtedly good-looking. And he made me go near crazy with desire to kiss him all night, to never let go of him. It was all I could think of as my hands touched him, as his arms went around my body. But it was wrong, and it wouldn't do any good for me to indulge in such things. It was only the rational side of me finally kicking in. It was for my own good; I didn't want to get hurt.

'Stop.' I managed to choke out at last. He complied. Surprisingly. He pulled away, lips pursed with disappointment as my small hands pushed against his bare chest. After a few moments of staring up at his stern profile, I managed to sit up, resting against the headboard of his bed. My voice shook as I spoke. 

' I can't do this.' I whispered meekly. There was a small smirk on his face. He crawled toward me, until his face was a mere inch away from mine. 

' Why can't you?' He asked. I looked away from him.

' Because, Draco…' I trailed off, suddenly feeling cold and so very naked. Because there was no foundation to this 'relationship', if you could even call it that. He was using me, and I didn't like the idea of that. His eyes glittered malignantly, probably knowing this.

' Scared?' He whispered in my ear, and I shivered even more. 

'No.' I spat, cringing and trying to worm away from him. Suddenly, he turned around, and I saw him roll his eyes with annoyance. Grumbling to himself, he rummaged around the floor until he found his shirt. Moments later, he threw over my own shirt, and I stared almost forlornly at his crouched back, still able to taste his unique taste.

' God damn it, Ginny.' He sighed exasperatedly, turning around. His shoulders sagged, and he looked tired all of a sudden. 

'You only have one life to live.' A frown crossed my face, but I didn't say anything. I knew what he meant. I should have felt proud of myself, because in a way, it was as if I had won a small battle against him. I had refused him, and at least that was pushing away some temptation, however trivial it seemed. 

But as I watched him throughout the night, watched him working furiously at his desk, I felt a pang in my heart every now and then. I wondered if he perhaps felt something for me, if it was indeed possible. It seemed that now as I saw him scribbling away on his parchment lit only by dim candlelight, he seemed like every normal male. He seemed to have his own share of worries and troubles, and for once, I could almost see some weakness in him.

Shaking my head, I pushed every other thought away from my mind, surprised at how easy it was, and fell asleep in an almost guilty peace.

To Be Continued…

A/N: Next chapter: Ginny faces the world again, and _drastic_ action must be taken…muahaha. Review? 


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Chapter 7

I woke up to unfamiliar surroundings. Waking up is a wonderful moment; that single second when you don't know anything except for the fact that it's a new day. Maybe a chance to start again. But there were no chances for me. It seemed as if life or destiny or fate or whatever you wanted to call it—had already decided my life. How could I fight something so strong?

Soon enough, that moment passed by, and reality started to sink in, weighing me down. That was case with me that morning, and I suddenly wished I were still sleeping, just so I didn't have to face the world. Eventually, I managed to get myself out of bed—Draco's bed, and hurriedly got dressed. And then, I sat. Sat on a chair by his desk and waited for something to happen because I certainly wasn't going to do anything. I waited because I felt lost, and I needed time to _think_.

Where was my life going from now? 

' Ah—still in here, Virginia?' A voice interrupted my silence, and I looked up abruptly. Draco peered at me for a moment, waiting for my answer. 

' Ye—I-I was about to leave.' I stammered, wringing my hands together and getting up slowly. And as I made my way towards the door, he followed me out, always a step behind me. Thankfully, there was no one in the Slytherin common room—perhaps courtesy of Draco—and when I reached the portrait hole, I found him blocking my way, gray eyes piercingly sharp and almost…amused. 

' I'll be going now.' I prompted, waiting for him to move. He only smiled slightly. 

' Feel free to come back any time you want, Virginia.' His finger tipped my chin upward, and leaning down, he placed a small kiss on my lips. 

_Fire_. 

I heard a swift _swoosh_ and he was gone. Grasping the walls, I wobbled out, knees shaking from, well—_him_. 

As the portrait slammed shut, I felt cold and angry. The bastard was challenging me—challenging me to face the world, and then making fun of me because he thought I would run back to him. I would prove him wrong. Looking around warily, I wrapped my cloak around me and made my way out of the dungeons into the upper halls that led to Gryffindor Tower. It was time to go back. 

It was either that, or Draco. 

---------------------------+

The décor of the Gryffindor Tower especially was not welcoming. Everything was black, and the usual splendor of bright crimson and rich gold was absent. There wasn't a single symbol to represent Harry Potter anywhere—no picture, no writing—yet the whole tower whispered to you these words: _He is dead…_

I felt small and slighted in my surroundings, and already I felt the lump in my throat grow larger as the flashes of his death rang through me. 

' What're you doing here?' I whirled around and saw a Gryffindor girl glaring at me, half in hate, half in fear. Her deep blue eyes seemed haunted.

' Go away.' She said softly, but I didn't overlook the dangerous tone of voice. I did not move. 

' _Go!_' Her shrill scream echoed through the room. Footsteps came—many of them. I looked and saw familiar faces, oh! And among them, the trio, with one of them missing. The group halted before us, and the girl in front of me now sobbed helplessly, shoulders heaving up and down as she collapsed to the floor. Students rushed to her, comforting her. 

But no one comforted me. They gawked at me, all of them wary of me, suspicious and full of anger. Anger that shouldn't have been directed towards me! Weaving through the small crowd, I found Ron, and grabbed his arm. 

' Ron—' He turned around, looking tired yet his face set in stone. 

' Help me.' I whispered to him, clinging to him. He would help me—he was my brother. My brother. 

' You should go.' He said firmly, trying to wrench away from my grip. My face grew blank. _My brother. _

' Ron, not you too!' I cried exasperatedly, feeling so tired of _this_. But he remained stoic and, I suppose, convinced of what he had heard. 

' Everyone saw you there, Ginny.' He said. ' Standing over my _best_ friend, his blood splattered all over your robes.' His tone was bitter now, and his blue eyes were full of spite that was directed towards _me_. Where had the caring, bigoted, often times overprotective brother of mine gone to? 

I suppose he didn't know he was clawing at my heart with those _words_ he spoke. 

It was more than I could take. I could take the leering accusations of all of the world—what did they know about me? But my own brother? My own family. Tears were flowing rapidly onto my cheeks as I stared into his face, waiting for some flicker of emotion. What did I have left if I didn't have my family? 

' You think I killed him, Ron?' I asked softly, clenching my fists. He hung his head and let out a sigh. 

' I know what I saw, Ginny.' He said. Unexplainable rage and anger coursed through my veins, and with every fiber of my being, I hated my life and everything it stood for. All I wanted to do was to scream and to disappear.

I pushed past the people, trying to avoid their hurtful gazes that cut into me like sharp knives, ignoring the comments they threw at me, trying to block out the sound of their tears and trying so desperately to run away again. 

_Glaring; suspicion. _

I wished that all of them were dead so that they would learn—so that I would get my revenge. The sight in front of me was dark and inside, I burned with fiery passion—hatred. And for once, I felt that I did not deserve this. I didn't deserve any of it.

I did not even run down the stairs. I walked down slowly, peeling off the heavy black robe that bore the Gryffindor crest. In my eyes there was determination as the warm brown turned steely.

In my heart there was a devil that was laughing, because he was _so_ close to victory. 

All because of foolish hatred. 

I tried so hard to stop the tears at least until I came to him. I succeeded. When he saw me, he could only sense a kind of calm anger inside of me. Calm, but powerful anger. He didn't know I was writhing with pain inside because of how unfair things were. 

I expected him to smile and tell me that he knew I would be back. But his face was blank, and suddenly, he pulled me into his arms, into a tight hug. 

' Tell me what happened, Virginia.' He whispered. I let it all loose, crying, sobbing, yelling, screaming because everything was going so wrong. 

' I hate my life, Draco.' I choked out. ' I hate _everyone_ and I hate this world, and nothing ever goes right for me. Harry Potter wasn't supposed to die—I wasn't supposed to be accused. All of what I had up until a few days ago is gone.' I looked up at him. ' I have nothing.' But he didn't despair with me. He suddenly pulled away from me, eyes wide and clear. 

' You have everything, Virginia.' He said. ' Life is too short to meddle with silly things like being accepted into society. _Carpe Diem_, Virginia, _Carpe Diem._ If you don't live life now, you're going to let it all fly out the window. You have me, you have the dark lord. You have power, and you have anger and hatred. You were a good little girl, and look what they repay you with! Accusations. They are all idiots, the lot of them. Join us, and we will treat you with the respect that you desire. You will bask in glory and honour for the rest of your life. This is about revenge, Virginia.' There was a manic glint in his eyes as he grabbed my wrists forcefully, his voice slowly rising in volume. I hesitated, and my brown eyes that had been fiery only moments before, shrank at his proposition. I had known it would come to this if I came back to him. The thought still intimidated me. 

So I kissed him. Kissed him fiercely as I had never done before. It was a battle between our lips, our tongues—who could leave the other lying breathless on the floor. My hands were wrapped tightly around his neck as I struggled to take the kiss to another level. I heard him chuckle softly, and his words rang in my head.

_Carpe diem._

And while I came up for a breath, all that mattered to be was _this._ Feeling powerful, feeling passion and lust. 

_Carpe diem, carpe diem, carpe diem…_

' Yes.' I said suddenly. He stopped caressing me and looked up, eyes wide, lips slightly swollen, hair disheveled. There was silence, and even I was quite appalled at what I had just said. But then again, what reason did I have not go join him now? I had nothing. I was bitter, angry, and wanted revenge for those foolish people who had never given me any second glances. He was right, in all that he had told me.

Draco quickly regained his composure. He straightened up and smirked, eyes glittering with delight. 

' I knew you'd see it my way.' 

To Be Continued…

A/N: Review. 


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Chapter Eight

The night wind was cold. I stood facing the lake, watching the moon peek out from the dark clouds. In my hand I held nothing. Nothing. 

Soon, I heard his footsteps behind me—I heard them halt. I felt his gaze on my back and I turned around. 

His eyes told me that it was the logical thing to do. They didn't tell me whether or not it was right. 

" Follow me." I complied. I walked in his shadow, following him to where his broomstick stood. 

He mounted it, and looking back at me, he motioned for me to get on behind him. 

I was still unsure, and I'm sure he knew that. His eyes were staring intently at me, begging me, pleading me to just follow him. 

Snow fell on me as I stood as still as stone, contemplating whether or not I could really do this. He sighed, and in the darkness, I saw his silhouette move toward me. He stood close to me and took my hands in his. 

" Come with me, Virginia. Come with me and live happily forever." He whispered, and for once, his eyes didn't seem to be full of contempt, but sincerity and honesty like I had never seen before. Maybe deep inside, I knew that he could never be sincere or honest, but I wanted to believe it. I wanted to believe it very much. So I made myself believe it, smiling softly and feeling suddenly warm despite the cold. I climbed on the sleek wood behind him, arms wrapped around his waist, head buried in his neck. It felt nice, hugging him.

I don't know whether or not he was smiling, for I could not see his face, but I also imagined that he was smiling warmly. I imagined that we weren't going into darkness, but somewhere we would be completely alone and happy. 

Somewhere I could love him without being wrong. 

I felt a rush of tingles as we left the ground and zoomed through the night air, the ground growing further away with each passing second. It was almost exhilarating, in a childish way. I pretended it was a midnight broom ride with my beau, Draco. And although he would twirl and spin and do fancy tricks, I would be quite safe because he was here to protect me. 

I fantasized even as Hogwarts grew distant. Hogwarts. It meant home to me. It had been my home, at least. Looking back at the majestic castle, I felt a twinge of sorrow tugging at my heart, wishing desperately that I could still feel safe there. Wishing that none of this had happened. 

I admired the tall, pointy turrets of the great stone building, and I admired the warm glow of the candles one last time. 

I let out a shaky breath, and wiped away a few tears that had escaped. 

-----------------------------+

It had been an endless, uneventful flight. We hadn't talked at all, and I supposed that was the way he liked it. 

But when we did finally stop, it was abruptly, and most certainly at a strange place. A place that jolted me awake, a place that gave me incessant shivers of horror. 

And I had seen this place before…somewhere, I had seen it.

It was much like Hogwarts, yet different. It was a castle; tall turrets and millions of windows. But no light shined from within, nor did any light shine down on it. It was engulfed in black, and being in the castle's very presence made you feel frightened beyond words. It was secluded—beyond it was a vast field of barren wasteland. I could not see anything but the outline of the tall house, and I wanted to run away as fast as I could. It was quiet here, yet in my head I heard nasty whispers and shrieks and screams.

Darkness. 

But looking at Draco, he seemed unfazed. Straightening out his impeccably clean robes, he looked at me and gave me a small smirk. 

" Welcome to Malfoy Manor." 

Then he turned and walked towards the door. 

The door. I don't know how he found it through the darkness, but then again, he must have been used to it. I couldn't imagine anyone living in such a place. It only reminded me of just what kind of person Draco was. 

Inside, it wasn't much better. In fact, it was colder inside, and no matter how tightly I wore my cloak, I shivered uncontrollably, teeth chattering. And inside, it was just as dark, with corridors that literally seemed to stretch on forever. 

" Be careful." Draco warned quietly. " One could easily get lost around here." Though his words meant well, there was something in his voice that insinuated something horrible would happen if one got lost. I did not say anything, though millions of questions ran through my head. I decided they could wait at least until there was some light, until I got rid of the feeling that there was danger lurking behind every corner. 

On the blank stone walls, there were paintings. Thousands of them, lined up perfectly, each of a person. 

They did not move, but stood perfectly in place, glaring down at whomever crossed the halls with the same silver eyes all the Malfoy's had. With the same ferocity, with the same hatred and anger. I cowered under their gaze. Cold sweat rolled down my temples as I proceeded down the hall. My breath quickened with each step, and with each step, I wished even more that I was still at Hogwarts. 

I could not even see Draco, but followed him as I heard the swish of his robes. 

One could go crazy, wandering these halls. 

And I nearly cried in relief when I came to a door. I looked upon it with wide eyes. 

" Where are we, Draco?" I asked, voice shaking. He turned at me sharply. 

" Silence!" He snarled. He relaxed after a moment. Facing the door, he swung them open with gusto. 

In the center of the dimly lit room stood Lucius Malfoy. His pale face curled up into a sneer as he saw his son and I. In one swift stride, he was in front of me, eyes glittering maliciously. 

" Miss Weasley…" He murmured softly, taking a finger to lift my face towards him. I tried not to blink. His face hovered a few inches above mine, scrutinizing every facial feature of me. 

Finally, he let go and took a step back, still wearing a nasty sneer. 

" How nice of you to join us." His voice was silent, but there was something dangerous about his tone. Suddenly, he turned a sharp eye on Draco.

" Get my cloak." He snapped, irritation crossing his face. Draco moved quickly away from the doorway to fetch his father's cloak, and after handing it to him, Lucius Malfoy turned to me again. 

" Let us go meet the dark lord." He smiled dangerously, flashing one of his gold teeth. He walked out the door, his comrades following him, and finally, Draco after them, not even sparing me a glance in sympathy.

I followed them slowly, feeling as if I was lost in a sea of black. I was stricken with terror at the prospect of…him. I knew I was being a silly child, and I _knew _it was too late. But nevertheless, I cried a few tears. 

I followed them up the endless flight of narrow, stone stairs. I followed them through dark hall after dark hall, and I followed them until my legs could carry me no longer. 

And I stood in front of another door—this one large and magnificent and threatening. In it's wooden surface there were many words and pictures inscribed, most I could not understand. 

The door was thrust open, yet still, I could not see anything but an eerie green glow from the depths of the chamber. 

" She is here, master." Lucius Malfoy's deep voice sounded. There was a moment of silence, the moment of anticipation, where I expected His voice answering.

" _Bring her in."_ A hoarse, raspy voice echoed through the room. I stood frozen, as the tall figures in front of me swiftly moved away, to reveal to me the gleaming, glowing crimson eyes of the dark lord. My legs shook beneath me, threatening to give away at the sight I saw. 

" _Welcome, Virginia Weasley._"

To Be Continued…

A/N: Review, and I'll post the next chapter quickly.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: This chapter was a bit hurried. Not much Voldemort/Death eater action—that comes in the next chapter. 

Disclaimer: Nope. I don't own anything. All JKR's, let's say.

Chapter Nine

I stood before him, awed and horrified at the same time. He commanded such fear, and because of that I wanted to crawl away from him, from all of them—but he had so much power, and that drew me to him like a moth to the light. 

A loud shout and a sharp pang of pain awoke me. I cried out loud and fell to the floor. My hands felt the back of my head where the blow had been inflicted upon, and they met something wet—blood. Lucius towered over me, an icy glare shot down at me.

" You will bow before the lord, child." He hissed, eyes narrowing until they were mere slits. Scrambling to my feet, I bowed before him, blinking back tears as I faced the floor. There was a slight chuckle. 

" _Look at me, Virginia."_ His raspy voice spoke to me, and as if I were in a trance, I obeyed him without second thought. His power scared me, deep inside, because I wasn't even thinking anymore, it was as if he controlled me. I looked at him, the face that I could not see, hidden beneath the black robe. I looked at his blood-red eyes even as my eyes watered and threatened to shut close. And thankfully, finally, after the agonizing moments, he allowed me to look away, and I gasped for breath. 

" _Obedience is always rewarded._" He whispered, sending chills through my body. He did not speak any more, but his words echoed inside of me—Tom spoke to me, in the same alluring voice I heard him years ago, when I was but 11. 

_We meet again, Ginny._ I looked away--towards the floor, not knowing what to do when he spoke to me like that. When he spoke _through_ me.

_Yes, I can still sense power in you—the same power I invested in you long ago._

Wringing my hands together, I began rocking back and forth in the spot I stood, lips trembling, eyes closed. 

I felt as if I was falling into an abyss of black nothing—there was no beginning, there was no end. 

I was just falling. One second seemed like an eternity…

"_Take her away."_ His command was sharp, and immediately, I felt hands on either side of me, dragging me away from His lair.

And for that I was grateful, for when I opened my eyes again, I was met by the darkness of the empty halls—darkness that I would gladly embrace, rather than spending another torturous moment in the same room with him. 

Draco looked at me blankly. Then, he frowned, and took my arm. 

" Come. I'll take you to your room." He said calmly. 

----------------------------+

My room. It was not well lit either. And as soon as I settled in, I searched around for candles, anywhere they might be found. But I found none. Draco stood by the doorway, looking at me with a raised brow.

" Looking for something?" He drawled. I looked at him, desperation in my eyes. 

" Candles." I said hurriedly. " I need light." For a moment, he said nothing. Then, he chuckled sardonically, before stepping into the room, clucking his tongue. 

" Scared of the dark, are we?" He teased. I glared at him as fiercely as I could, feeling myself blush.

" You'll understand that I don't feel comfortable, feeling my way around in the pitch black dark." I muttered coldly. I heard a rustle, and he was sitting next to me. No matter how dark it was, however, I could see his pale skin, his silvery hair and his luminous eyes. 

" We Malfoy's are creatures who bask in darkness. We like it—we thrive in it." He paused. " We don't need candles, especially in a _bedroom_. The few we have are kept elsewhere." I sat silently, numb at his answer. Feeling angry at how un-sympathetic he was, I rummaged around my robes, looking for my wand.

" I see. Well then, I suppose I'll have to rely on myself—" I stopped abruptly, my hand finding nothing in my robes. Where had my wand gone? I was sure I had it—right before we had left, I had made sure. I grew frantic, throwing my robe off and shaking it violently. 

But there was nothing. And in the black, I saw him smirking smugly. Before I knew what I was doing, I threw myself onto him, pinning him down on the bed in my rage.

" What have you done with my wand, bastard?!" I demanded, fist clenching at his collar. His eyes narrowed and he pushed me off of him forcefully.

" It was taken away. You don't need it." I hated him. He had told me I would find comfort here, but I did not. I felt imprisoned. I couldn't do anything. He may have thrived in the darkness, in this kind of secluded environment, but couldn't he see I wasn't accustomed to it? I wasn't like him. Was a little sympathy going to kill him? My chest heaved up and down in anger as I thought about the current situations, and I was unaware of his eyes watching my every move. 

" You're angry." He said knowingly. 

" I hate you." I spat, crossing my arms and turning away from him. His hands pushed me onto the bed suddenly, and he smirked again. 

" No, you don't." His index finger trailed down my jawbone and caressed the edge of my lips. I looked up at him, anger suddenly gone as I noticed how close his lips were to mine. 

But he did not kiss me. Instead, he got up and began to walk away--and out the door. I scrambled up and watched him go, fear clawing at my heart as I realized I was alone in the dark.

Stupid, yes, but I hated the dark. 

" Draco!" I called out to him desperately, hoping he hadn't gone too far. There was no answer. I waited. 

" Draco…" I whimpered again, wishing he would come back. 

" For heaven's sake…" I looked up and saw him standing once again in the doorway, eyes flashing in annoyance. Relief flooded through me, and I felt a rush of gratitude toward him. I bit my lip and stayed silent, pleading with him to stay. 

" What do you want?" He snapped, knowing too well what I wanted.

" Stay here with me, at least until I fall asleep." I asked quietly, almost shyly. For a moment, he stood silent, blinking. Maybe he was taken by surprise. But after the moment passed, he walked over to me and sat beside me, his sharp features looking softer—especially his eyes. 

" You want _me_ to stay with you." He whispered. I nodded. Wanting to feel warmer, I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him down onto the bed, next to me. 

And even if it was Draco Malfoy that I held onto, I felt warm, secure. And I felt full of…comfort, and full of…love. 

I looked at him—his beautiful face, though confident and arrogant.

He leaned over and kissed me softly, softer than he had before—it was a goodnight kiss, a kiss that left me feeling tingly and excited and even more in love with him, perhaps. The moment was more intimate than before, because we were alone in the darkness, and he was there, protecting me, as I liked to imagine it.

But I felt the same exhilarating rush that I felt every single time he kissed me. My hands clutched the nape of his neck, brushing his soft hair now and then as I pressed his warm body against mine, getting lost in his unique taste.

And I knew I was addicted to him. 

A/N: Review.


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: Don't own anything. You know the drill.

Chapter 10 

_ 'And I knew I was addicted to him. '_

But by the next evening, Draco was the last person on my mind.

I stood in front of a pair of mahogany doors, beautiful, really, if I had taken the time to admire them. And if there had been any light shed upon them.

My escort, a tall, dark man, stood in front of me, almost as if he were waiting for a signal. 

"**_Come in_**." 

And that signal arrived. 

With two hands, he pushed against the doors, and thrust them open to reveal to me—

To reveal to me

The grand and magnificent splendor of the dining room.

Or more like; the Great Hall.

Oh, yes it was very dark and full of gloom and on the gray walls were the same sinisterly paintings that hung in the corridors, and on the cracked ceiling was a giant chandelier that had been unkempt—for it didn't shine.

But never the less, the sheer size and aura of the room was indeed splendid—breathtaking. 

"**_Sit_**." 

And as soon as the Dark Lord spoke, I felt cold, numb and sweaty at the same time, unease filling my mind until it was all that I thought about. 

Someone, I can't even remember who, led me to my seat among the rows of tables that were there, and Lord help me, were they expecting me to eat in front of Him? 

I couldn't even _think_ for myself in his presence, let alone connect the fork to my mouth while his red eyes were fixed on me, his voice echoing into my head.

But soon, there was a slow chatter that arose, a slow, somewhat comforting chatter that filled the room, taking my mind off of Him. But it wasn't idle talk. It was plans of when to attack, when to do this, how to do that.

" So—if we attack _here_, my lord, we would surely be getting the advantage—"

" Ah, but my friend, if so, we would be leaving this entire side unguarded!" 

But all of it I didn't care much about; I was hungry and tired. 

Until.

" And when shall we initiate the new _girl_, my lord?" Another voice rang out in the midst of the crowd. My head shot up as I looked at Him. I could just imagine a cruel smile curling up his pale, ashy face. 

" **_Soon, my dear servant. Very soon_**." 

And at that point, I lost all appetite. 

_Initiate?_

_Me?_

Me, a death eater… 

Suddenly, my stomach was churning, and the sight in front of me was beginning to grow hazy.

Even now, when it was obviously too late, fear constricted me, and I thought that I couldn't even move. 

Apparently, I was wrong. 

My chair scraped backwards as I stood up, my fork falling to the tablecloth. The hall was silent.

" Excuse me." I murmured breathlessly. And I ran out the door.

Draco stood up soon after, throwing his napkin on the floor as he followed me.

----------------------------------------------+

I was running so fast, I was squinting, unable to see clearly where I was going. All I knew was that I had to get to somewhere I could find some goddamned peace. I rounded corner after corner until the whole place felt like an endless, treacherous maze. 

But finally, I came to an end, and at the end, there was a narrow flight of wooden stairs that seemed to lead to nowhere, unlike any I had seen before. 

Not wasting another moment, I climbed the stairs that lead to nowhere.

But then, there was a door. And beyond the door, was a dusty room.

An attic.

-------------------------------------------+

Of course, he found me.

Somehow, Draco found me. Because I heard his heavy footsteps as he climbed the stairs, and I saw him watch me from the doorway, watching me sit by the window, thinking of nothing and everything.

He squatted down next to me, sighing.

" So," He began, looking around the attic. " You've found the Malfoy Manor Attic." I looked up at him, and surprisingly, there was a hint of humor in his gray eyes. Was he trying to comfort me? But if he was, he saw that I was not being comforted. He sighed again.

Scooting closer to me, he sat down on the dusty floor, folding his arms over his knees. 

" Why're you running away?" He whispered, face merely inches away from mine. I hesitated in answering, because I didn't know what he would think of me if I told him the truth. 

" Because…" I began. " Because I'm _scared_, Draco. Scared to _death_ of what will happen next." 

" You do look terrified."

And if possible, his features seemed to soften just a bit, as if a light of understanding had shone within him. A slender hand cupped my chin and lifted it upward to meet his face. 

I didn't blink. 

" Don't be." I stared at him for a moment, as if entranced by his words.

Then, I shook the feeling away, and laughed mirthlessly. I broke the gaze and looked out the small window beside me. 

" Easier said than done." I muttered. He seemed to hesitate a bit in what he had to say next, because I heard him take in a shaky breath. 

" Look—if it's any comfort to you, I've felt scared like you too." I looked at him suddenly, a sly smile curling up my lips. 

" You, scared?" I asked playfully, grinning now. He frowned slightly. 

" Yes—anything wrong with that?" I just shook my head and let the subject drop. Then there was a moment of silence—not awkward—just…silent, as we both looked towards the window, and the dimming sun as dusk approached. 

" Lots of things up here." I commented lightly, trying to start up a casual conversation. Though I wasn't looking at him, I could almost see the cocky smirk on his face.

" Well, _yea_—it's _only_ an attic." He said, sarcasm dripping in his words. I rolled my eyes and playfully punched his shoulder. Looking at the boxes and boxes of things, I noticed a particular box—full of books. 

Standing up, the floorboards creaked, and I made my way to the box of books, smiling slightly as I marveled at my discovery. 

Through the dust, I managed to uncover quite a lot of classics. Tucking them under my arm, I walked over to Draco again, eyes shining. 

" Well, look what I found!" He looked at me disinterestedly. 

" Books." He said dryly. 

" Not just any books—_muggle classics_." At this, it must have sparked some interest, because he took them out of my arms for a closer inspection. 

" How come you keep these up here?" I asked. " Don't you ever read them?" But he didn't look at me, nor answer me for a long time. He only looked at each of the books, cover to cover, jaw tightening as he did. 

When he finally did look at me, his eyes seemed a shade darker. There was a tight-lipped, strained smile on his face. 

" They were my mother's things." He said. My face fell, and I gaped for a moment.

_His mother._

" Oh." I felt so foolish. He was telling me that these were his deceased mother's things, and all I could say was, '_oh_' ? Guilt along with sympathy flooded through me. 

And Draco chuckled darkly, throwing the books to the floor. 

" My foolish, poetic mother and her silly obsession with muggle literature." He muttered. I thought he would drop the subject, but he did not relent. He picked up a random book.

" I mean, _Romeo and Juliet_? What kind of shit is that, anyway?" He was laughing, but it was painful to hear him laugh, because it was the kind of laughter that came out when you were too sad or bitter to cry. 

" Oh, Draco…It's not _shit_. It's beautiful." I whispered almost breathlessly, trying to get him to look at me. " It's about two young lovers who love each other—and in the end, they die for the love they believed in." 

" That's stupid." He spat. 

" Yea?" 

" It's stupid to die for something as fake as love." And to that, I had nothing to say. I mean, what do you say to a person like Draco when he talked about love like that, like nothing would ever change his mind about it? 

So I just shrugged. The conversation had gotten a little too emotional for my taste, anyway.

" So why do you keep it up here?" I repeated, trying to make the tone light and nonchalant. But he wouldn't lose the bitter tone in his voice as he spoke.

" Father always said that mother was weakness. Her ideas were always filling my head when I was young, filling it with nonsense. When she died, he decided to remove of everything that was ever hers—everything that would remind me of her. He told me I had to be a strong man, and not a foolish boy." He looked at me, an odd glint in his eyes. 

" And I was. I didn't even cry at her funeral." He almost sounded proud. I looked down at the floor, feeling like I shouldn't be hearing this, as if I wasn't entitled to hearing all this personal facts about Draco. 

" _Crying is weakness_, he would say. So I never do." I looked at him, sadness and confusion etched into my features, and all I could think about was how horrible his childhood must have been. 

But I stopped him there, because I felt like I couldn't hear any more of it. I was trying hard to bottle up my own emotions about what he had told me. Smiling a strained smile, I stood up.

" We should go now. I'm tired." He didn't protest, and I was grateful. Nodding, he stood up also, and we walked out of the attic door, and down the rickety stairs.

How ironic. Ironic in the sense that it was I who was wanting to comfort Draco now, instead of the way it had been when I had first run up the stairs. 

We walked to my room in silence, and even the darkness didn't bother me, because I was too lost in my own thoughts, sneaking a few glances at Draco to see if he was alright. 

And when we were in front of the door to my bedroom, he stopped. 

" I'll be going now." Looking at his face, it was back to being solemn and blank—I wondered if he regretted telling me what he had told me up in the attic.

I nodded, biting my lip—and to tell you the truth, I was secretly thinking of the creeping fear that would grasp me once I lay alone in the darkness, and I was secretly wishing he would stay with me again. 

But judging by the current circumstances, I couldn't do that. 

What I wanted to do was tell him that it was alright, that I wanted to comfort him and that he could tell me everything he needed to tell and, and…

" Draco—" He looked at me with tired eyes. I smiled softly, and standing on my tip-toes, I wrapped my arms around his neck, breathing in the pine fresh scent as I hugged him tight. 

" I'm sorry." I whispered in his ear. The next thing I knew, his arms were wrapped around me, and my lips were on his and—

It was a soft, endearing kiss. 

And while my face was pressed against his, I felt a few tears roll down my cheeks, smudging onto his face. 

Let's just say I was crying for him.

----------------------------------+

**A/N:** It is time for some thank yous. No, the fic isn't over—but without your support, I would have just given up on this fic. And for that, you guys deserve a bountiful amount of cookies. If I forget you, smack me, and I will write your name in the next chapter with big, bold letters.

Thank you: Eclipse ( Real author? Pfft. I wish. Thanks, though J), Trillium, Lady Lestrange ( Thanks a million for your compliments *hugs*), Simply Bewitching 1( Why doesn't she need it? *evil grin* Because…), raindrops, padfoots_muse, redwillow, Deanna, Merusa, damnzdevil, Scarlett, hahatushkaru, GinnyYvetteHermione, fb90, Melanie Pointe, Sharlene, Angel Hiragizawa32, Medusa, goodgirlsbadboys, Eowyn85, Riverchic1998, Crystal, anonymous, Imp, The Charmed One, Jin Munku-JGSPTV and Elwing Alcyone.

There—a complete list of all the reviewers so far—I seriously can not stress enough how much I thank you. 

Oh—and remember to leave a review! ^_^ 


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: If I did own Harry Potter and all characters and settings related to him, I would be vacationing in Hawaii right now. I'm just a penniless writer, so suing me won't do anything either. 

A/N: I am so very sorry for the long wait…but as the end grows near, this fic is getting harder and harder to right, emotion wise, and plot wise. Please understand that I'm trying my best. Without all you reviwers, I wouldn't have written this chapter, anyway ^_^

Chapter 11

He told me not to be afraid.

I found myself wishing it could be that easy. But no, life wasn't that simple. As the days progressed, I found myself staring at Draco Malfoy more often than before, and instead of just a dull ache in my chest, there was curiosity sparked.

I so desperately wanted to know more about him, much more than he would let on. But with him, he was always so careful, and I could practically see him thinking every word through before they were uttered.

Sometimes it made me outraged; his calm perfection while I was in a state of complete ruin. 

Fear no longer grasped me, or clung to me like a leech—it plagued my every thought until I thought it was consuming the air that I breathed, until I felt cold, clammy beads of sweat roll my forehead, until I felt so cold from it. I didn't know the difference between fear and comfort, because the fear was constant.

I had thought that once the decision was made, I would be on a one-way path—that I would feel no regret. But it was the contrary, in fact—Tom's haunting thoughts, words and images stopped, however slowly, and I began to think all the more clearer than before. 

I felt stupid and foolish.

But at the same time, that foolishness stopped me from running back to Hogwarts.

I was even offered the chance to, and yet I refused.

Call me stupid, but nothing compelled me to go back anymore, not even the instinctive fear I always felt.

--------------+

" They're planning to initiate you soon." He told me quietly as I ran the brush through my hair. 

" I see." I replied just as quietly, hoping that he didn't sense my anxiety.

" They're also going to attack soon. They feel as if it is high time." 

I bit my lips and turned around to face him. His eyes were trained straight ahead of him.

" You speak of 'them' like you're not one of their number." I mused, wonder alight in my eyes. Was _he_ having regrets? His eyes darkened.

" Stop being foolish, Ginny." 

That was what he usually said. 

It seemed as if I was getting closer to hitting home these days, and he seemed to be brushing my curious comments aside by telling me to stop being _foolish_.

There was silence as I continued to brush my hair, not that it needed to be any longer. It was just that, as soon as I left this room, I knew I probably would not have a chance to talk to Draco until late at night. He 

had business to take care of, or so he told me, while I desperately tried to find my place in this big manor, wandering around quite aimlessly. Every moment I spent with Draco was a precious one, however pathetic that might sound.

" You don't have to do this." I looked at him through the mirror, surprise reflecting in my eyes. I stood frozen as I waited for him to continue, wondering if truly, he was telling me what I thought he was telling me. 

" You don't have to." He repeated again, softly. What in hell was he talking about? I smiled placidly, and turned to him.

" I do, though. I made this choice long ago, and weren't you the one who convinced me?" My eyes tried to search his, but as always, he left them blank. Was he saying this because he had read my own thoughts and saw my uncertainty? Or was there something else, and I was simply deemed useless now?

" I wouldn't want to make you a hypocrite." 

-----------------+

And then, on days when nothing really happened, and it felt like I was stuck in the middle of my life, waiting for time to push itself past this barrier…

I missed my family. Life had been a jumble since I had arrived here, and one thing that had been on my mind was my family.

The family that had betrayed me.

I learned the hard way why betrayal hurt so much.

Growing up, I believed that no matter what, I would always have my family. It wasn't a matter of choice—my _family_. Through thick and thin, they would never waver in loyalty.

I guess it was another one of my foolish dreams.

I had virtually disappeared from the face of this earth, and none of them bothered to search me out.

At times, I was even angry.

How dare they do this to me? How dare they be so stupid? Didn't they see what they had reduced me to? They were all I had ever had, and so easily, they could abandon me.

The things I had once taken for granted 

Were all beginning to erode away.

--------------+

I gripped the pen in my hand. It shook violently, and my face was pale as I tried hard to steady it, trembling hand wavering over the creamy parchment. 

My breaths grew faster, more urgent as the faces of my family whizzed through my mind, old memories of when my mother would feed me soup when I was sick, of when my father would hug me tightly when I gotten hurt, of when my brothers would tease me to the brink of tears.

But I missed all of that. With all my heart, that was the only single thing in the world that I wanted. It felt almost like there was a constant burning in my chest, a slow churning in my stomach that I couldn't get rid of. 

And that day, the feeling of nostalgia was so unbearable. Common sense flew out the window, and I wondered if I tried hard enough, I could go back…

Slowly, the quill shuddered over the parchment, bold ebony ink flowing like blood.

_To my family,_

_I miss you._

_I'm sorry._

_Words can't explain what has happened over the past few months._

_But I'd been hoping you would understand._

_I feel lost, mom._

_I feel scared, dad._

_I love you all._

_I want to go back_

But the quill fell to the floor, and I gave a lung-wrenching sob as the tears spilled over all I had written, unable to contain my emotions.

Nothing seemed fair for me. If there was a god out there, I felt angry at him, and wondered what I had done to deserve this.

It felt like the tears would never stop.

The room I was in faded away until all I could see were blurs of colors, and I tasted the salty bitterness like it was liberation from what I had been trying to bottle up.

I was alone as I despaired, hating myself for every second the tears flowed, because it was my own fault…my own foolishness that had started this all…

And then, and then he was there. The door flew open and I could hear his expensive shoes pounding on the floor as he ran over to me and his silver eyes were so wide and alarmed.

He didn't say a word as he watched me fall apart.

He embraced me tightly.

---------------+

That night, yet again I slept in his arms.

My tears had stopped and were reduced to wet stains on my cheeks, and for what seemed like eternity, I did not fall asleep.

I looked at Draco as he slept soundly. 

My thoughts wandered back to what I had learned when I had first come here; how his mother was gone.

He did understand.

And for the second time since I've known him, I thought I saw a side to him that was so very human. A side that was powerless to these kinds of emotions we couldn't control, a side that could be prey to life.

My heart thumped in thought of the longing he felt for his mother.

Wasn't he a god among deceivers.

---------------+

I knew very well it had been coming.

" They're going to initiate you, Ginny."

I stopped, waiting for the feeling of dread to flow in. I felt none. I felt no fear. On the contrary, I was almost relieved.

Doing nothing gave one too much time to think.

I didn't want to think.

Perhaps this change in my feelings was because I would be relieved in the end, because something horrible would end. 

" Okay." I said nonchalantly.

" Tonight."

" Okay." I repeated. 

" I'll be coming to retrieve you before dinnertime." 

With a nod, he left the room.

I stared at the mirror at the edge of the room, and I stared at the image reflected upon it.

Ginny Weasley.

Death Eater.

------------+

I was ordered to dress in simple clothes. So I did. I wore a simple white blouse and a black skirt, much like my Hogwarts uniform had been.

It seemed that at this point, I was beyond anxiety, because all I felt was determination to do this, and do it right.

I waited patiently in my room until Draco came, dressed in formal robes.

Death Eater robes. 

Neither of us spoke during the procession to the room where I would be initiated.

I felt oddly at peace, my chin high, as I walked along quietly, ignoring the portraits that shot interested looks in my direction.

Finally, we arrived at the door.

And I remembered, with a jolt.

------------+

The room was surrounded in death eaters, the light dim and casting eerie shadows on the walls.

In the center, of course, was Voldemort. His long grey robes covered his face and immediately, I felt a bit cold.

I had remembered my dream. The dream of my own initiation…and now…it was becoming reality…but the dream had been so different…I had been sure of myself…

All of a sudden, the lights dimmed even further, and the room grew dead quiet. I looked around, searching for Draco, but he was lost to me in the sea of death eaters.

" _Virginia Weasley._" His raspy voice sounded like nails against a chalkboard. 

But never the less, I stepped forward boldly. 

" _Let the initiation begin_." But he was no longer speaking to me. A hooded death eater came forth, and grabbing my arm roughly, he pulled me forward until I was directly in from of Lord Voldemort, until I thought I could almost smell his stench of death that was said to linger about him…

In one rough gesture, he pulled up the sleeves of my blouse, revealing a patch of pale skin. 

When I looked up, I could hardly contain a gasp. Voldemort's hand was outstretched for my arm—the hand that was now set in flame; a great cloud of blinding red and orange.

His hand clamped around my arm, and I screamed.

" _I am your Lord." _His voice sounded monotonous and quiet, but I could hear him loudly through my pained screams as the fire burned through and through, prickling every inch of me…

" _You shall be my loyal servant, she who will obey me and know me as her ultimate deity."_

But the pain didn't simmer down. It seemed to continue to increase, and I watched with tears in my eyes as the orange flames kissed my arm mercilessly.

" _You will bleed for your lord. You are bound to me forever._" 

Then, with a hiss, as the agony intensified into unbearable heights, the room seemed to close in around me. 

" _Cruciatus_." 

Words couldn't describe. It was not a thousand whetted knives piercing into my body. It was pain that was physical, yes, but inside, my soul felt tormented in its self, as if it had been torn open and left to bleed. It was pain so powerful, the ground below me began to tremble. And there was a hot, fiery storm that caressed my insides, whispering things of evil to me, whispering things that made me weak. 

I would have willingly died than endure the pain.

I felt tears roll down my cheeks unconsciously as I continued to sob in pain, but when the teardrops fell onto hands, I saw they color of crimson blood. 

I was bleeding.

And the teardrops of blood continued and continued, staining my blouse. I stared in grotesque wonder, through the heart-wrenching pain. Everything about the moment seemed so wrong and unbearable…

It was all too much.

But just when I thought I would never stop crying those tears of blood, just when I thought I would never be relieved of this torture, his hand tore away from mine.

And I gulped in fresh air.

I wore the same Death Eater robes that everyone else did, and upon my arm there was a black image.

The dark mark.

But for those minutes, I was unaware of everything but myself.

I had done it. It was over. The pain ebbed away slowly, and yet I continued to cry.

The whole room watched me.

And from the corner of my eye, I saw a pair of silver eyes.

Beautiful, saddened gray eyes.

-----------------------+

A/N: Not really satisfied with the chapter…but please, please, please review, never the less ^_^ 


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: I disclaim: Draco, Ginny, Malfoy Manor, Harry, Hermione, Ron, Voldemort—oh, hang it all—JKR owns everything HP. 

A/N: Oops. Ever faithfully, I update at sporadic intervals. But please, try not to beat me most violently! You know how it is with school. Don't you? Ahh, forgive me. : - (. This is, however, the second-to-last chapter, because I feel I have dragged this on long enough, and I myself, as the author, cannot bear to write anymore of this without dying of a severe hemorrhage. So while I have loved and poured every bit of inspiration into this fic; time to say good-bye. 

Though My Heart Is From Hell

I was curled up on—was it my bed?

I couldn't tell.

My sanity seemed to float away somewhere in the distance, just out of my grasp. 

Everything was still hidden in a thick, gray haze. 

All I remember is a soft, firm voice, and a calloused hand brushing away the hairs that clung to my moist cheek. 

But there wasn't even room for comfort, anymore. 

Life simply happened. In no order or accordance, these strange pictures flashed past my eyes, these strange sounds floated by my ears. 

Some things that weren't even real, or tangible. 

Because I remember seeing a pair of keys dangling in front of me, and somewhere there was a little girl laughing with delight…and _was that little girl me? Because she looked like me and sounded like me but…_

And then there was cold wind again, and I was stuck somewhere, deep down into a dark secret where little hope managed to seep through…there was a boy who talked to me, and though his voice was not unkind, I couldn't help but _wonder why he had glass eyes…_

_Another voice…strong arms gripping my body…the pain was starting to creep up my spine…_

"Ginny!!" 

My eyes didn't flutter open—at least, they couldn't have. 

I looked again, and Draco stood in front of me, brows knitted in frustration. He sat on the bed, and he was trying to keep his expression stony, but he seemed weakened. 

" Stop crying." I almost smiled at that. 

" I'm crying?" I asked, touching my cheeks to find that it was, indeed, wet. The darkness of the room finally registered, and I began feeling a slow ache in the pit of my stomach.

" Stupid girl." He whispered.

I heard his voice tremble. 

And I can't explain the sudden burst of something that I felt—but all I wanted then was to feel him surrounding me, to feel, smell, taste only him because he could be my drug. He could be mine and maybe I wouldn't have to watch those strange pictures anymore. 

My hands wrapped around his neck and his body fell back onto the bed as I rolled over to be on top of him, eyes wide and staring into his. 

" Draco…" I murmured, running my hand down his cold, pale cheeks longingly. He gave no answer, save a deep frown. 

I bit down on his lip and sucked, wanting to taste every last bit of him, wanting to fill myself with him. My hands roamed around his torso as I struggled to find buttons, buttons that I could undo so I could properly feel his heart beat…

" Ginny, stop…" His breath was becoming ragged, and yet his hands pushed against me. I glared down at him.

Not bothering to reply, I sealed my lips against his once again, my tongue pushing against his, begging, pleading for entrance. 

But he would not give in. My own skin felt scorching and his was so icy cold, but he wouldn't let me find release from my own pain…

And I couldn't understand why. 

" Don't you love me, Draco?" I choked out, my hands grabbing his shoulders and pleading with him to say yes and give me some strength. 

His eyes changed color, and I was reminded of glass again. 

"No." But that wasn't what I wanted him to tell me. Hazy fog settled in front of my eyes once again and there was my head that wouldn't stop spinning…

" I can't." His voice was soft and firm. My head rolled back onto the bed as the blackness set in—why couldn't I stop these tears?!--and in the distance I could hear footsteps. 

His footsteps, as he walked away and left me alone.

---à

" _Do not think there would be no test of will—and above all, loyalty."_

Of course. I had been stupid.

When I next awoke, things weren't much different. Perhaps even worse, for I could think clearly now and…was that regret that tugged at the ends of my sanity? 

No. No, no, no. I could not feel regret _now_, not when I had already done the deed, not when I had come so far…

But He, my Lord—of course, he was right. I had gotten myself into this, gone through the pain that reached the depths of human limit—but what of it? 

_Loyalty_.

Such a rare word, and even rarer to find proof enough of it.

Standing there in front of the window with the curtains pulled over it; I knew what I had to do. To prove my worth. Chills ran through my body as I contemplated what it would be like. 

Life was…linear. You could not go back—it simply wasn't done. It only moved forward, and though I did not what my future awaited me, or whether or not I wanted that kind of future, in the present I had no choice but to keep on moving, and in order to do so, I had to do this. 

Rushed footsteps skidded to a stop behind me. Ice hands with a vice grip curled around my arm and pulled me—

Draco.

His eyes were wide and his face so terrible, it was a wonder I didn't tremble. 

" What are you doing?" He demanded, his breath coming out in hurried pants. Strangely enough, I knew what he meant.

" Serving my lord." I bit out coldly, refusing to look him straight in the eye. He seemed to hesitate a little, his stone face relieving just a little. 

" What has he asked you to do?" He asked tentatively. I winced. I tried to turn away, but he would not let me. So I looked down at the wood floor, swallowing the resentful words that were on the verge of spilling from my mouth.

" That is none of your business, Draco." I said quietly. He was frustrated, and gave my arm a yank.

" Look—_Look at me, Ginny!!_" My eyes reluctantly met his, and they seemed almost frightened. 

" Tell me—what has he asked you to do?" He whispered. I knew I was breathing heavily, resisting all that had been building up inside of me—all that ached to burst in a spout of rage and senselessness. 

I paused for a deep breath, feeling the whole world still before me.

" To kill my family." 

My voice seemed too soft and weak, but he heard it. He also heard my voice falter, and he was angry, so angry and I didn't even understand.

His eyes were slits, and his lips a very thin, straight line, and his hands were fisted and against the walls, and his shoulders were shaking. 

Maybe after what was eternity, he spoke. It was a calm and controlled tone, but barely. 

" When?" He bit out impatiently, not even looking at me. 

" Tonight." The answers came out so easily, though. Like I was talking of the weather. Inside, was this simple air of indifference what I really felt?

I didn't know what was happening to me, but even the horror of the murder didn't faze me. 

" No." It was just a soft murmur at first. I pretended not to hear it. But then he said it again.

" _No_." He turned to me. " _No, _Ginny. You…" He stopped abruptly, looking so unsure of himself. 

" You…don't have to do this." Was he pleading with me?

" Draco—"

" Stop! Just listen! I…go. Go now." His mind seemed to be made up, and he was slowly inching towards me, causing me to back up against the wall. 

" Don't be ridiculous, Malfoy!" I shouted angrily. I didn't want this. Why couldn't he leave me alone? Why did he have to leave my mind teetering? There had been no choice about this, and there wouldn't be now. 

He didn't seem to be listening. 

" Go, now! Just run!"

" I have to do this!" I was on the verge of tears again. " Life…sometimes doesn't go the way you exactly planned it…but you have to go along with it, never the less. There's no other way—please, you listen to me!" 

" It doesn't matter, Weasley—just run now. I'll make you go. Make this easier for the both of us and just disappear…" 

" What are you _talking _about?!" I screeched, my hands reaching to grab my head, because it was pounding, pounding, pounding. Fat tears rolled down my face and my back touched the solid wall as he continued to walked towards me. 

" You, Draco, you!" My finger pointed at him accusingly. " I—I don't _understand _you, Draco! I gave myself to you! You told me, deceived me into thinking that this was it—this was the way! Why are you telling me to leave now? And—and, I may not understand you but I'll have you know that its not so easy walking away, not when I've come this far…I can't!! Stop telling me what to do!!" 

The room echoed so loudly. The loudest echo, however, was not my voice. It was his long and pensive stare, and my throat got caught in air, unable to form two words. 

His hands reached towards me, and I thought he was going to touch me. But he reached for the wall beside me, and without a word, the wall behind me curved back and opened to reveal just a tunnel of darkness. The escape-ways that he had spoken of nonchalantly, one day. 

" Go." Begging. I shook my head, tears still heavily flowing. 

" I can't…stop, Draco…" My hands tried to reach for him, to let him keep the last resolve in me that still compelled me to stay. 

But his face remained wide and determined and desperate at the same time, and he was walking closer to me, and I was backing into the bout of darkness, the escape out of the manor—the way that I didn't want to go. 

" Please, Ginny. You're not going to kill your family for a certain dark lord." He smiled mirthlessly, looking so tired all of a sudden. I looked behind me and saw a ray of light that came from outside. 

Looking back towards Draco, I shook my head again, though less vigorously.

" Even if I did run away—it would never work. They would find out and then what? You might get in danger." My hands wrung together anxiously. 

" It doesn't matter anymore. I'll tell them a lie—any lie—I'll tell them I let you go, I'll tell them I killed you with my own bare hands." He seemed suddenly excited by this idea, and grabbed my face before I could protest.

" And you'll never hear from those bastards again, Ginny. You can go live somewhere far away and never hear from any of us…" He trailed off, letting his sentence reverberate in the air. 

" You're crazy." I was beyond any resistance…I couldn't register what he was trying to say. He was the same man who had led me here, who had led me into this trap, into this life, into this hell. He was one of them he was—

_Never hear from any of us…_

Unpredictable. 

I hated him, I hated him, I hated him!--

" Ginny." My eyes lifted towards his, for the way he had uttered my name was almost mournful. He licked his dry lips, and I noticed even in the darkness, just how hypnotic his mercury eyes were. 

" If…" He paused, his hands reaching for my hair. " If I don't let you go now…if I don't do _this_, however crazy it may sound, I'll never be able to live with myself." I didn't respond. 

" Because there are times in life when you are utterly wrong about the things you were so sure of. You…you don't belong here. I don't want to see you suffer like they all do, here." I couldn't even believe my ears. His words were sincere and slow and there was no doubt in this world that it was caring. 

But here in this moment, what he was telling me seemed too surreal and unfit for it. Here in this moment, what he was saying should have been saved for another time, and not when time was so scarce, not when our breaths were ragged and rushed. 

And in that same single moment, all the dreams, however faint they had been, were dashed to the ground violently.

I touched his cheeks in brief wonder, thinking only of how soft and cold it was. 

I wanted to ask him again if he loved me—because surely I did, more than I had ever did. But I could not bring myself too, not when his face was so perfect.

Not when I knew what the answer would be. My eyes flickered up towards his.

" Will I—Do you think…I'll ever see you again? Perhaps, one day?" I was afraid of his answer to that, too.

But he didn't answer. He seemed satisfied that I had consented, and his hands were pushing me, urging me to go now. 

My hands caressed the contours of his face.

And then I was gone.

I ran, because there was nothing else left to do or say. 

I ran, because I couldn't bear to linger any longer.

But I certainly could not mistake the woeful look in his ever-watchful eyes

As I stumbled towards the haziest, _darkest _sunlight I had ever seen.

A/N: Please review, even if you thought that was sucky and horrible and I should just go stick my head in a toilet for the good of this world—let me know that, then. Expect the epilogue to be posted soon. *glomps*


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